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STARBOARp  AND  PORT: 

]f    THE  "NETTIE"  ALONG  SHpRE./^ 


I     .    («  / 


By  GEORGE   H.  HEPWORTH. 


JV£TV   YORK: 

HARPER    &    BROTHERS,    PUBLISHERS, 

FRANKLIN     SQUARE. 
1876. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1876,  by 

Harper    &    Brothers, 

In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


TO 

AMBROSE  A.  RANNEY,  Esq., 

(RULOFF) 

WHO  HAS  BEEN  TO  ME  FOR  NEARLY  TWENTY  YEARS  WHAT  MAN 
RARELY  FINDS,  AND  WHAT   HE  PRIZES  WHEN   HE  FINDS, 

A    TRUE  FRIEND; 
AND  HIS  BROTHER,  J.  W.  RANNEY,  M.D., 

EQUALLY   MY  FRIENLH 

J[  JUcbicate  tl)is  jBook. 

G.  H.  H. 


PREFACE. 


In  a  work  so  unpretending  as  this  a  Preface  is 
hardly  needed.  My  book  would  never  have  seen 
the  light  but  for  the  kindness  of  friends.  They  list- 
ened so  patiently  to  my  repeated  recitals  of  advent- 
ure that  I  was  tempted  to  seek  a  larger  audience.  I 
have  had  three  objects  in  view  in  elaborating  my  log: 
First,  the  happiness  it  always  gives  me  to  talk  about 
the  ocean  ;  second,  the  hope  of  giving  pleasure  to 
others ;  and,  third,  my  desire  to  induce  yachtsmen  to 
venture  into  blue  water.  If  I  fail  in  the  last,  I  shall 
fall  back  cheerfully  to  the  other  two  ;  and  if  the  sec- 
ond be  unattainable,  then  the  pleasure  I  have  had  in 
writing  the  book  remains,  and  I  am  quite  content. 

I  desire  to  give  public  expression  of  my  gratitude 
to  the  Rev.  M.  Harvey,  of  St.  John's,  Newfoundland, 
who  sent  me  maps  and  public  documents  concern- 
ing an  island  which  offers  special  inducements  to  the 
angler,  the  hunter,  and  the  explorer — which  island  I 
hope  to  visit  some  day,  when  I  shall  be  under  still 
greater  obligations  for  his  kindness ;  also  to  the  Mas- 


vi  Preface. 

sachusetts  Arms  Manufacturing  Company  of  Chicopce, 
Mass.,  which  very  generously  presented  me  with  a 
couple  of  the  justly  celebrated  Maynard  rifles  for 
my  expedition.  I  had  the  pleasure  of  using  them 
on  some  small  game,  and  am  perfectly  willing  to 
trust  them  against  larger  game  when  the  opportu- 
nity shall  present  itself. 

And  so  I  launch  my  little  craft  into  what  I  hope 
will  prove  to  be  the  sea  of  a  kind  and  friendly  crit- 
icism. 

G.  H.  H. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 


PAGE 


Getting  Ready 1 1 

CHAPTER  II. 
A  Splendid  Run 28 

CHAPTER  HI. 
Bits  of  History 53 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Among  the  Rocks  in  a  Fog 72 

CHAPTER  V. 
Trout  and  Mosquitoes 87 

CHAPTER  VI.- 
Larks  and  a  Chat loi 

CHAPTER  VII. 
A  Sand-bank  and  a  Fight 114 


viii  Table  of  Contents. 

CHAPTER  VIII. 


P>08 


Scenery  and  Fly-making 138 

CHAPTER  IX. 
A  Salmon  and  a  Fox 155 

CHAPTER  X. 
Along  Prince  Edward's 172 

CHAPTER  XI. 

ChALEUR  and    PERCi I90 

CHAPTER  XII. 
Indian  Canoes 207 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
Enough,  and  Home 221 


"  Thalatta  !     Thalatta  ! 
I  greet  thee,  thou  Ocean  Eternal ! 
I  give  thee  ten  thousand  times  greeting, 

With  heart  all  exulting, 

As,  ages  since,  hailed  thee 

Those  ten  thousand  Greek  hearts — 
Fate-conquering,  home-yearning, 
World-renowned  Greek  hearts. 

"  The  billows  were  rolling, 
Were  rolling  and  roaring, 
The  sun  poured  downward  incessant, 
The  flickering  rose-lights ; 
Affrighted,  the  flocks  of  the  sea-mews 
Fluttered  away,  loud-screaming ; 

The  steeds  were  stamping,  the  shields  were  clanging, 
And  far,  like  a  shout  of  victory,  echoed 
Thalatta  1     Thalatta  !" 

Heine. 

"  Thou  Ocean  Eternal,  I  greet  thee  5 
Like  the  tongue  of  my  home  is  the  dash  of  thy  waters  ! 
Like  dreams  of  my  childhood  now  sparkle  before  me 
All  the  wide-curving  waves  of  thy  rolling  dominions." 

Heine. 

"  Good-bye  to  Pain  and  Care  !    I  take 
Mine  ease  to-day  ; 
Here  where  these  sunny  waters  break. 
And  ripples  this  keen  breeze,  I  shake 
All  burdens  from  my  heart,  all  weary  thoughts  away." 

Whittier. 


STARBOARD  AND  PORT. 


CHAPTER  I. 


GETTING     READY. 


HERE  is  no  love  so  absorbing  as 
a  love  of  the  ocean,  and  there  are 
few  pleasures  in  life  half  so  sweet 
as  drifting  on  the  current  or  fac- 
ing the  gale  in  a  trim,  well-built, 
and  weatherly  yacht.  The  land 
has  its  charms  indeed,  but  blue  water  is  a  constant  and 
soul-satisfying  fascination.  In  the  landscape  you  have 
always  the  same  outlines,  however  various  may  be  the 
light  and  shadow,  the  gloom  and  sunshine  which  fill  up 
the  picture  ;  but  on  the  ocean  the  scene  is  changed  not 
only  with  every  change  of  wind,  but  with  the  ever- 
varying  force  of  the  wind.  In  the  morning  you  have 
the  gentle  zephyr,  just  filling  your  sails  and  curling  the 
water  into  little  fantastic  ripples  which  rise  and  fall  on 
the  regular  swell  with  the  perfect  rhythm  of  poetry, 
and  in  the  afternoon  a  heavy  blow  from  the  east,  com- 
ing like  a  giant  with  his  whip  and  driving  the  fright- 
ened waves  before  him  until  they  rise  from  the  surface 
in  snow-capped  ridges,  all  the  while  muttering  their 


12  Starboard  and  Port. 

deep -voiced  mournful  music,  uhich  just  colors  your 
consciousness  of  the  tjrandeur  of  the  picture  with  a  pale 
shade  of  fear.  At  one  time  the  clouds  seem  to  be  look- 
ing at  themselves  as  though  the  sea  were  a  mirror,  and 
you  watch  the  shadows  as  they  play  at  hide-and-seek 
with  something  of  the  interest  with  which  you  watch 
the  moods  of  a  child's  face ;  then  from  horizon  to  hori- 
zon, unbroken  by  intruding  island  or  rock,  stretches  the 
sombre  gray  which  makes  you  feel  that  Nature  herself 
is  sad.  At  another  time  the  sky,  absolutely  cloudless, 
shines  like  burnished  silver,  into  which  has  been  thrown 
the  faintest  possible  reflection  of  blue,  while  the  heat 
pours  down  with  torrid  power;  then  you  rise  and  fall 
on  the  watery  undulations,  and  your  reefing-points  rap 
the  sails  with  a  conscious  impatience.  You  are  remind- 
ed of  the  Ancient  Mariner,  and  imagine  yourself  in  a 
painted  ship  on  a  painted  ocean.  Ah  !  there  is  nothing 
half  so  sweet  in  life  as  a  full,  deep,  and  open-souled  com- 
munion with  the  sea. 

It  seems  to  me,  however,  that  yachting  in  America 
has  hardly  reached  the  dignity  it  possesses  in  England. 
We  Americans  play  on  the  water,  while  the  English  live 
on  it.  It  is  with  us  the  sport  of  an  afternoon,  and  con- 
sists, in  its  most  extended  expression,  of  a  trip  along 
the  shore  of  Long  Island.  Our  craft  seldom  venture 
on  long  voyages,  and  would  do  themselves  little  credit 
in  a  northeast  gale.  They  have  generally  very  graceful 
lines,  great  breadth  of  beam,  which  makes  them  roomy 
and  comfortable  under  deck,  but  are  often  so  overload- 
ed with  spars  and  canvas  that  they  are  unfit  for  rough 
outside  work.  In  our  whole  fleet  there  are  hardly  half 
a  dozen  boats  which  an  old  sailor  would  pronounce 


Getting  Ready.  13 

snugly  trimmed.  The  main -boom  runs  outboard  as 
though  the  mast  had  fallen  over  the  stern,  and  when 
the  yacht  is  flying  before  a  ten-knot  breeze  the  foot 
of  the  mainsail  slaps  the  water,  and  makes  such  a  swash 
that  all  the  comfort  of  sailing  is  changed  into  anxiety 
for  the  rigging.  Our  topmasts,  too,  run  up  to  such  an 
incredible  height  that  when  the  boat  begins  to  roll  in 
a  sea-way  it  seems  as  though  she  would  never  stop  until 
she  had  jerked  out  her  spars. 

I  am  ready  to  admit  that  our  American  yachts  are 
the  most  graceful  pieces  of  marine  architecture  in  exist- 
ence. Nothing  can  exceed  the  beauty  of  a  regatta  off 
Sandy  Hook  in  a  six  or  eight  knot  breeze.  The  white- 
winged  craft  skim  over  the  water  like  the  flight  of  gulls, 
while  the  hulls  lose  themselves  in  clouds  of  spotless 
canvas.  It  is  an  infinite  pity,  however,  that  their  mis- 
sion ends  when  the  wind  increases,  and  that  before  the 
stiff  breeze  which  the  fisherman  or  the  pilot-boat  only 
laughs  at,  they  creep  under  a  lee  for  safety.  The  truth 
is,  they  are  built  to  look  at,  but  not  to  last.  That  part 
of  the  hull  which  is  seen  is  carefully  looked  after,  but 
that  part  which  is  under  the  water-line  is  left  to  neglect. 
The  average  yacht  is  hermetically  sealed  by  the  builder, 
and  ventilation  regarded  as  entirely  unnecessary.  The 
Gloucester  fisherman  pickles  his  vessel,  and  leaves  air- 
holes in  every  possible  corner.  He  fills  the  space  be- 
tween the  plank  and  the  ceiling  with  salt  clear  up  to 
the  deck,  and  as  a  consequence  his  craft  when  fifteen 
or  twenty  years  old  is  as  solid  as  when  she  came  off  the 
stocks.  Our  yachtsmen  forget  that  a  boat  is  like  the 
human  lungs — it  must  have  air,  or  it  will  surely  rot.  A 
well-known  ship-builder  told  me  the  other  day  that 


14  Starboard  and  Port. 

most  of  our  yachts  which  arc  more  than  five  years  old 
have  passed  their  usefuhiess.  They  are  hkely  to  be 
pricked  both  at  the  stern  and  in  the  run,  the  two  places 
in  a  boat  which  it  is  most  difficult  to  ventilate.  I  have 
known  a  single  race  to  so  strain  a  yacht  that  it  became 
necessary  to  haul  her  up  on  the  ways  and  put  the 
caulkers  on  her  bottom.  The  truth  is,  we  are  consumed 
by  a  madness  for  speed,  and  every  thing  is  sacrificed  to 
that  one  quality.  To  make  the  best  time  is  all  we  care 
for.  We  can  run  all  round  an  English  yacht  in  fair 
weather  and  smooth  water,  but  when  we  are  caught  in 
a  gale,  and  have  to  lie-to  for  a  couple  of  days,  the  En- 
glishman eats  his  meals  in  serenity,  assured  that  his 
boat  will  ride  it  out,  while  we  chew  the  cud  of  discon- 
tent and  look  wistfully  toward  home.  It  has  made  me 
groan  sometimes  to  see  a  fleet  outside  of  the  Hook  tak- 
ing in  its  kites  or  luffing  up  to  reef  in  nothing  more 
than  an  honest  wholesale  breeze,  while  an  outward- 
bound  pilot-boat,  carrying  all  its  canvas,  bowled  along 
as  though  it  were  only  playing  with  the  wind. 

The  crowning  defect,  and  one  which  we  are  begin- 
ning to  acknowledge,  is  the  shape  of  the  bows.  They 
are  so  sharp  that  they  not  only  cut  through  the  water 
when  it  is  smooth,  but  they  also  cut  into  it  and  under 
it  when  there  is  any  sea-way  on.  The  only  thing  that 
holds  the  head  of  a  yacht  up  in  rough  weather  is  its 
preposterous  bowsprit  and  jib-boom.  The  fisherman  is 
so  fashioned  above  the  water-line  forward  that  when 
she  dives  into  a  sea  she  has  wood  enough  to  keep  her 
on  top  of  the  water.  There  is  so  much  wood  and  so 
much  breadth  by  the  cat-heads  that  when  she  plunges, 
she  instantly  rises,  while  the  yacht,  which  has  no  wood 


Getting  Ready.  15 

forward,  and  is  as  sharp  as  a  knife,  plunges  and  stays 
there  until  her  deck  as  far  aft  as  the  fore-rigging  is  all 
under  water.  As  an  inevitable  consequence,  the  whole 
head-gear  is  endangered  at  a  time  when  the  pilot-boat 
goes  laughingly  by  with  dry  decks. 

A  few  of  our  larger  craft  are  notable  exceptions  to 
this  rule.  The  Sappho,  the  Dauntless,  the  EncJiantress, 
the  Dreadnought,  and  some  others,  are  perhaps  not 
open  to  the  criticisms  I  have  made.  And  yet  even 
these  yachts  are  built  so  sharp  that  in  an  ordinary  chop 
sea  outside  they  run  their  noses  under  water  in  a  very 
disagreeable  way,  imperiling  their  whole  head -gear. 
They  are  all  something  over  two  hundred  tons'  bur- 
den, ^cost  almost  fabulous  sums,  and  ought  to  be  able 
to  round  the  Horn  as  comfortably  and  safely  as  a  full- 
rigged  ship  ;  and  yet  they  are  not  the  vessels  in  which 
an  old  salt  would  feel  secure.  It  is  not  the  mahogany, 
rosewood,  plate-glass,  and  general  extravagance  of  out- 
fit which  frightens  him,  but  the  low  bow  and  rail,  the 
wedge-like  prow  which  lets  the  water  come  aboard  in- 
stead of  dashing  it  aside,  and  which  is  so  thin  and 
sharp  that  there  is  scarcely  any  lifting  quality  in  the 
boat  except  when  the  jib-boom  and  bowsprit  strike  the 
wave  and  buoy  her  up.  Any  yacht  that  measures  a 
hundred  tons,  that  has  seventy-five  feet  of  deck-room, 
ought  to  be  able  to  go  the  wide  world  over,  and  to 
take  whatever  might  come.  With  lower  masts  and 
shorter  spars  the  sails  could  be  snugly  trimmed  close  to 
the  deck  ;  and  though  something  might  be  lost  in  speed, 
an  enormous  gain  of  safety  would  give  an  enviable  and 
manly  dignity  to  American  yachting.  Besides  —  and 
this  is  a  consideration  not  to  be  despised — we  should 


1 6  Starboard  and  Port. 

become  a  hardier  and  more  venturesome  race  of  boat- 
men, and  spend  our  summers  in  distant  waters,  and  in 
the  acquisition  of  marine  prowess — a  quality  of  char- 
acter in  which  we  are  sadly  deficient.  Long  Island 
Sound  is  the  disease  of  which  we  are  dying.  To  that  are 
we  indebted  for  that  evil  invention,  the  centre-board. 
It  has  taught  us  to  dread  Cape  Cod ;  and  with  its 
smoother  water  has  taken  the  life  out  of  our  love  for 
the  ocean,  and  substituted  the  fascinations  of  a  mill- 
pond.  We  crawl  along  inshore,  and  run  for  a  harbor 
when  the  wind  blows  a  reefing  breeze.  The  play 
of  a  coaster  or  lumberman  is  the  agony  of  a  yacht. 
We  are  oppressed  with  the  consciousness  that  our  boats 
are  not  weatherly;  that  we  have  paid  too  much  for 
brass  and  mahogany,  and  too  little  for  good  solid  oak ; 
that  we  have  sacrificed  every  thing  to  a  knife-like  bow 
and  fifteen  knots  an  hour ;  and  so  we  shake  the  rope's 
end  in  the  face  of  a  Banker  when  we  pass  him  this 
side  of  Newport,  but  dare  not  for  our  lives  follow  him 
to  the  big  waves  of  the  fishing-ground. 

Now,  if  the  only  object  of  yachting  is  a  few  hours' 
pleasure,  that  end  is  fully  met  by  the  present  condi- 
tion of  affairs.  It  is  certainly  delightful,  when  one 
is  sitting  on  the  piazza  of  his  sea-side  home,  to  gaze  at 
the  graceful  boat  riding  safely  at  anchor  a  hundred 
yards  from  shore.  It  tingles  one's  nervous  system  to 
look  at  the  trig  uniforms  of  the  sailors,  and  hear  the 
mellow  tones  of  the  bell  when  it  strikes  the  hour. 
Besides,  there  is  a  certain  glamour  about  owning  a  yacht 
— every  body  regards  it  as  a  bit  of  fairy-land,  and  looks 
with  inexpressible  envy  on  the  Yacht  Club  buttons  and 
the  gay  colors  of  the  signal  code,  and  the  wreathing 


Getting  Ready.  17 

smoke  as  the  miniature  gun  announces  that  the  great 
sun  has  set  for  the  day,  but  proposes  to  rise  and  smile 
on  the  well-painted  craft  on  the  morrow.  I  am  willing 
to  confess  that  all  this  is  exceedingly  pleasant,  but 
after  all  it  is  only  a  sort  of  fresh-water  experience,  and 
after  a  while  one  tires  of  it.  It  does  very  well  for  the 
first  year,  but  after  that  the  appetite  is  cloyed,  and 
we  need  something  more  stimulating. 

I  have  a  strong  conviction  that  yachting  may  be 
made,  and  will  yet  become,  a  very  much  more  impor- 
tant matter  than  it  is  at  present.  It  is  only  a  pastime 
just  now,  but  years  hence  it  will  become  an  element  of 
national  strength.  What  West  Point  is  for  the  land, 
yachting  ought  to  be  for  the  water — an  education  that 
may  some  time  stand  the  country  in  good  stead.  Just 
now  our  yacht -owners  leave  their  business  at  three 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  take  a  turn  round  Southwest 
Spit,  or  possibly  run  out  to  the  Lightship,  and  that  is 
all.  Their  yachts,  like  their  carriages,  are  governed  by 
a  hired  man.  Now  I  do  not  intend  to  discourage  the 
pursuit  of  pleasure,  or  to  find  unnecessaiy  fault.  I  am 
simply  trying  to  look  at  matters  squarely,  and  to  tell 
the  plain  truth.  I  will  not  go  so  far  as  some  writers,  and 
say  that  no  man  has  a  right  to  ride  unless  he  can  drive 
his  own  horses,  and  none  a  right  to  sail  unless,  at  least 
in  an  emergency,  he  can  command  his  own  craft ;  but 
I  have  a  very  earnest  feeling  that  we  are  playing  at 
yachting,  and  reaching  after  no  special  good.  If  we 
can  get  nothing  more  out  of  our  boats  than  an  occa- 
sional sail  among  the  drift-wood  of  the  harbor,  then  we 
will  be  content  with  that ;  but  if  we  can  be  roused  to 
something  better   and  more  worthy  of  our   national 


1 8  Starboard  and  Port. 

prestige,  then  welcome  the  voice  that  scolds  for  our 
good. 

I  think  I  see  what  this  pleasure  may  become  in  the 
future,  and  am  somewhat  impatient  perhaps  for  the 
consummation.  Our  yacht  models  have  in  times  past 
had  a  great  influence  on  the  merchant  marine.  They 
have  put  to  the  blush  those  old  square-headed  vessels 
which  used  literally  to  fight  their  way  across  the  ocean, 
and  one  by  one  they  have  disappeared  from  our  waters. 
Now  we  have  ships  more  comely  in  shape,  more  fleet 
of  foot,  and  equally  useful  for  purposes  of  trade.  But 
of  late  years  yachts  have  become  toys,  and  lost  their 
prestige  as  teachers.  They  have  very  little,  if  any 
thing,  to  do  with  progress  in  marine  architecture,  and 
are  looked  upon  as  simply  an  extravagance  in  cost, 
shape,  and  canvas. 

I  am  looking  forward  hopefully  to  the  time  when  our 
fleet  will  not  anchor  at  Newport.  The  Sound  is  the 
primary  school,  while  Cape  Cod  is  the  high  school  of 
American  yachtsmen.  We  have  solved  the  problem 
of  speed,  and  can  shoot  over  smooth  water  like  a  ri- 
cochetting  bullet.  With  centre-board  up  when  running 
before  the  wind,  we  can  beat  the  world.  The  next 
question  to  be  settled,  and  the  far  more  important  one, 
is  the  question  of  weatherly  qualities.  If  we  should 
dare  to  run  our  fleet  into  the  teeth  of  a  downright 
northeaster,  we  might  rattle  every  thing  to  pieces,  but 
we  should  return  wiser  for  the  experience,  and,  I  doubt 
not,  resolved  on  a  radical  change.  There  is  so  much 
that  is  admirable  in  this  national  determination  to  do 
the  best  thing  that  can  be  done,  that  I  feel  very  sure 
the  whole  character  of  yachting  is  to  suffer  a  change 


Getting  Ready.  19 

of  base  in  the  next  ten  years.  We  shall  yet  have  the 
best  sea-boats  as  well  as  the  fastest  craft  of  which  any 
people  can  boast,  and  we  shall  yet  be  as  proud  of  the 
way  in  which  our  vessels  will  fight  a  gale  as  we  are 
now  of  the  swiftness  with  which  they  glide  over 
smooth  water. 

The  ideal  model  is  in  the  future.  The  English 
yacht  is  altogether  too  clumsy,  and  the  American  alto- 
gether too  tender.  The  Englishman  is  narrow  and 
deep  ;  the  American  wide  and  flat.  It  is  not  impossible 
to  combine  the  best  qualities  of  these  two  styles,  and 
then  we  shall  leave  the  Sound  and  take  to  deep  water. 

I  sent  the  Nettie,  late  in  June,  to  New  London,  to 
have  her  masts  cut  down  and  her  main-boom  shorten- 
ed. The  sticks  were  preposterously  long,  and  made 
her  roll  badly  in  a  heavy  swell,  while  the  main-boom 
ran  outboard  so  far  that,  when  the  wind  was  on  the 
quarter  and  she  was  running  free,  the  end  of  it  dipped 
as  she  swayed,  and  threatened  to  carry  away  the  mast- 
head. She  was  in  good  trim  for  racing  in  smooth  wa- 
ter, and  had  many  a  time  shown  her  wake  to  her  rivals, 
so  it  went  hard  with  me  to  alter  her  proportions ;  but 
I  thought  of  the  Nova  Scotia  coast,  and  the  "  harri- 
canes"  which  seem  to  have  their  own  way  with  our 
stanch  fishing-smacks  even,  and  concluded  to  sacrifice 
something  to  comfort  and  safety.  She  would  have  to 
meet  whatever  might  come,  and  would  need  to  be 
strong  in  every  timber  and  line.  She  was  carefully  ex- 
amined in  the  hull,  all  her  running  rigging  was  over- 
hauled, and  every  thing  done  to  fit  her  for  the  hard 
work  which  lay  before  us. 

We  went  on  board  in  Boston  harbor  July  6th.     The 


20  Starboard  and  Port. 

yacht  looked  ready  for  any  thing,  and  seemed  to  have 
a  half  consciousness  that  she  was  on  the  edge  of  a  new 
experience,  and  that  great  things  were  expected.  It  is 
no  small  task  to  prepare  for  a  voyage.  Our  steward 
was  busy  getting  the  saloon  and  state-rooms  in  readi- 
ness, and  it  devolved  upon  me  to  buy  the  provisions. 
Never  having  had  to  look  after  a  large  family,  I  made 
a  great  many  blunders.  I  sent  Algar  in  one  direction 
to  search  for  water  and  ice ;  Bertric  in  another  direc- 
tion, to  purchase  flour  and  potatoes;  Stigand  in  still 
another,  to  buy  meat  for  the  hands  and  steaks  for  the 
cabin ;  and  reserved  to  myself  the  duty  of  gathering 
together  the  odds  and  ends  which  go  so  far  to  make  up 
the  comfort  of  a  cruise.  My  little  army  defiled  from 
the  wharf,  and  soon  each  individual  needle  was  finding 
a  different  way  through  the  human  haystack.  In  the 
course  of  a  couple  of  hours  spent  in  a  weary  search 
after  mustard  and  gherkins  and  fancy  crackers,  I  found 
my  slow  and  hot  way  along  the  lower  part  of  the  city, 
my  arms  piled  full  of  small  bundles,  which  seemed  to 
have  no  coherency  whatever;  for  first  one  parcel  would 
drop,  involving  the  necessity  of  laying  down  nearly  all 
the  rest  in  order  to  pick  that  one  up,  and  then  another 
parcel,  which  did  not  appear  to  enjoy  its  proximity  to 
its  neighbor,  started  off  from  the  top  of  the  pile,  as  a 
small  avalanche  from  a  mountain-top,  and  slid  down  to 
the  sidewalk,  bringing  up  with  such  a  force  that  the 
paper  burst,  and  half  the  contents  were  spilled.  The 
small  boy  behind  me,  who  was  carrying  his  bundles 
very  comfortably  in  a  basket,  seemed  to  enjoy  the  ex- 
perience more  than  I  did.  If  it  had  been  cool,  I  could 
have  kept  my  temper;  but  with  the  mercury  among 


Getting  Ready. 


21 


the  nineties,  it  was  more  than  human  patience  could 
bear ;  so,  objurgating  that  steward  in  a  mild  set  of  epi- 
thets which  were  more  indicative  of  sorrow  than  of 
anger,  I  sat  down  on  the  doorstep  of  a  warehouse,  with 
the  impression  that  all  inanimate  things  are  totally  de- 
praved. Just  then  a  troop  of  hangers-on,  looking  out 
for  a  petty  job,  discovered  my  predicament.  They 
rushed  at  me,  vociferously  demanding  the  privilege  of 
carrying  my  bundles  for  me.  A  half-dozen  of  them 
grabbed  a  parcel  each,  and  in  single  file,  a  stately  and 
august  procession,  they  marched  down  to  the  boat, 


22  Starboard  and  Port. 

while  I  loitered  behind,  a  victim  of  untoward  circum- 
stances. After  the  bundles  had  been  delivered  to  the 
sailors,  mostly  in  a  state  of  dilapidation,  each  bundle 
having  done  its  best  to  leak  itself  away,  my  convoys 
gathered  in  a  semicircle  about  me,  and  asked  remuner- 
ation for  their  valuable  services.  I  gave  them  a  quar- 
ter apiece,  and  found  that  the  articles  aggregated  a 
very  handsome  sum,  of  which  the  cartage  was  the  prin- 
cipal item. 

Bertric  had  arrived  in  a  very  moist  condition,  but 
with  his  freight  in  good  order,  since,  with  characteristic 
caution,  he  had  hired  an  express  wagon.  We  waited 
impatiently  for  thirty  minutes  the  arrival  of  the  other 
two  members  of  the  company,  when  I  indiscreetly  sug- 
gested the  propriety  of  entering  upon  a  tour  of  discov- 
ery. It  seemed  a  very  simple  thing  to  do,  and  also  an 
act  of  friendship  toward  our  comrades,  who  might  be 
lost  amid  the  tangled  streets  of  the  city.  So  I  started 
in  the  direction  which  Algar  ought  to  have  taken,  while 
Bertric  went  in  search  of  Stigand.  We  afterward 
learned  from  the  sailors  that  Algar  and  Stigand  arrived 
a  few  minutes  after  our  departure,  and  immediately  set 
out  in  search  of  us.  An  hour  and  a  half  was  thus 
spent  in  a  very  successful  game  of  hide-and-seek,  which 
would  have  been  tolerable  if  our  object  had  been  to 
escape  one  another,  but  which  was  entirely  unsatisfac- 
tory since  our  object  was  to  find  one  another. 

Let  me,  however,  draw  the  curtain  of  forgetfulness 
over  that  season  of  bitter  wandering,  and  come  to  the 
pleasant  fact  that  at  three  o'clock,  after  the  wind,  which 
had  been  favorable  all  the  morning,  had  died  out  alto- 
gether, and  the  tide  had  begun  to  flow,  we  met  with  a 


Getting  Ready.  23 

fond  embrace,  our  list  of  provisions  was  complete,  and 
our  tempers  in  the  sulkiest  possible  mood. 

We  were  rowed  out  to  the  yacht,  which  lay  a  couple 
of  chains  off,  passed  the*  stores  to  the  steward,  and 
unanimously  expressed  the  opinion  that  the  whole 
experience,  though  somewhat  novel,  was  not  on  the 
whole  of  the  most  agreeable  kind.  The  boats  were 
swung  to  the  davits,  the  anchor  was  hove  short,  the 
sail -stops  were  unbound,  the  halyards  were  manned, 
and  the  white  canvas  swayed  up  to  the  merry  song  of 
the  sailors.     We  were  ready  at  last. 

Just  then  a  light  air  filled  the  sails,  the  anchor  was 
hove  chock  a-block,  the  order  was  given  to  up  with  the 
jib,  and  the  Nettie,  hesitating  a  moment,  as  though  to 
say  good-bye  to  friendly  waters,  shot  away  from  her 
moorings,  and  we  were  off. 

Boston  has  certainly  a  picturesque  harbor.  The  city, 
as  seen  from  a  distance,  is  very  attractive ;  and  the  isl- 
ands, which  serve  as  so  many  breakwaters,  each  one 
forming  a  lee,  help  to  make  a  very  impressive  picture. 
We  glided  by  Fort  Independence,  and  the  never-to-be- 
finished  fort  on  Governor's  Island,  by  Long  Island,  with 
the  Inner  Light  on  its  eastern  front,  by  Nix  Mate,  and 
so  out  by  way  of  Broad  Sound.  We  were  then  fairly  at 
sea,  of  which  fact  we  were  reminded  by  the  gentle  un- 
dulation which  was  the  remnant  of  the  last  heavy  blow. 

There  was  hardly  any  breeze,  and  our  progress  was 
consequently  slow.  We  made  only  about  four  knots, 
but  the  night  was  superb.  The  great  army  of  stars 
came  out,  crowding  and  hustling  one  another  as 
though  they  had  human  passions,  and  were  all  bent  on 
an  eager  mission.     The  lights  along  the  coast  slowly 


24  Starboard  and  Port. 

faded  into  the  dim  distance  :  first  Nahant,  then  Bever- 
ly, then  Lynn,  then  Gloucester,  after  which  we  made 
for  the  double  lights  of  Cape  Ann.  Once  by  those, 
we  could  lay  our  course  for  Star  Island  Light,  with  the 
li^rhts  off  Portsmouth  on  the  far  larboard.  It  seemed 
impossible  to  sleep,  so  we  sat  up  on  deck,  admiring  the 
scene,  each  in  his  own  way. 

The  heavens  seem  very  friendly  to  one  on  the  water, 
and  the  sailor  never  tires  of  watching  the  stars.  The 
man  at  the  wheel  generally  picks  out  a  prominent  one 
to  steer  by,  only  casting  an  occasional  glance  at  the 
compass  to  assure  himself  that  the  two  guides  cor- 
respond. It  is  not  very  easy  for  thoughtful  men  to 
have  a  rattling  time  at  night  on  board  a  vessel.  They 
may  scintillate  occasionally,  throwing  off  a  spark  of 
wit,  but  the  integral  influence  of  the  ocean  is  subduing. 
It  leads  to  reverie  and  introspection.  Ruloff  spent  the 
evening  forward  among  the  sailors,  listening  to  the  ex- 
periences which  they  delight  to  narrate,  and  almost  al- 
ways in  a  quiet  and  impressive  sort  of  way.  The  rest 
of  us  were  seated  in  the  cockpit,  talking  with  the  man 
at  the  wheel,  and  making  plans  for  the  future. 

Our  view  of  the  comet  was  something  wonderful. 
There  was  a  thin  haze  for  a  few  degrees  above  the 
horizon,  but  for  a  couple  of  hours  the  mysterious  mes- 
senger held  his  equal  way  through  the  clear  ether,  and 
showed  his  magnificent  proportions  to  great  advan- 
tage. A  nodule  of  fire  served  as  a  kind  of  figure-head, 
from  which  swept  that  amazing  trail  of  light  at  which 
a  wondering  world  was  looking.  While  I  sat  absorbed 
and  silent,  Ah  Boo,  our  Mongolian,  to  whose  keeping 
we  had  intrusted  the  important  duty  of  overseeing  the 


Getting  Ready. 


25 


culinary  department,  emerged  from  his  laboratory  to 
get  a  breath  of  air.  He  stared  about  the  sky  until  he 
came  to  the  comet,  and  then  his  surprise  and  wonder 
reached  their  climax.  The  erratic  messenger  was  evi- 
dently a  novelty  to  his  untutored  mind,  and  he  broke 
forth  in  an  apostrophe,  which  may  have  been  very  elo- 
quent in  Chinese,  but  which  was  sufficiently  unintelli- 
gible as  English. 

"  Come,  come  !"  he  said,  as  he  took  me  by  the  sleeve 
and  hurried  me  across  the  deck  to  the  fore -rigging, 
"  Mr.  Hepper,  see  !  star  all  in  a  smoke  of  fire  !  What 
the  matter  ?  you  know  ?" 

I  assured  the  simple  fellow  that  I  really  did  not 
know  the  exact  condition  of  affairs  up  there  ;  when,  see- 

B 


26  Starboard  and  Port. 

ing  that  I  was  undisturbed,  he  concluded  that  there 
was  no  occasion  for  immediate  alarm,  and  quietly  emp- 
tied his  bucket,  which  he  had  been  most  pertinaciously 
and  unconsciously  holding,  and,  with  more  subdued 
eloquence  in  an  unknown  tongue,  re-entered  the  abyss 
of  the  cook-room,  and  was  lost  to  view. 

That  same  evening  I  saw  a  more  brilliant  meteor 
than  it  had  ever  been  my  lot  to  behold.  ■  I  suppose 
phenomena  of  equal  brilliancy  are  often  visible  in  other 
quarters  of  the  globe,  but  this  one  was  so  startlingly 
bright  that  I  was  amazed  and  delighted.  It  was  just 
above  the  starboard  bow.  I  was*  looking  up  in  medi- 
tative mood,  when  I  saw  what  I  took  to  be  the  fiery 
ball  of  a  rocket.  It  was  a  node  of  white  light,  follow- 
ing just  about  the  parabola  which  a  rocket  would  nat- 
urally take.  After  it  had  traversed  what  seemed  to  be 
two  or  three  degrees,  it  suddenly  burst,  and  went  out 
in  darkness,  leaving  behind  small  pear-shaped  brilliants, 
which  remained  for  several  seconds,  and  then  disap- 
peared. 

And  so  the  silent,  still  night  wore  on.  At  about  one 
in  the  morning  we  passed  the  Cape  Ann  lights,  giving 
them  a  good  berth,  out  of  respect  to  a  ledge  which 
lies  off  E.S.E.  from  Thatcher's  Island  a  couple  of  miles, 
and  then  laid  our  course  a  little  to  the  westward  of 
Star  Island,  when,  overcome  with  sleep,  we  all  went  to 
bed. 

The  Nettie  is  a  very  roomy  boat,  and  though  there 
were  six  of  us  in  the  cabin,  we  were  all  comfortably 
bestowed.  Ruloff  took  the  starboard  state-room,  fill- 
ing it  with  guns  and  fishing-rods ;  I  had  the  port 
state- room,  with  wash-room  attached;   while  Algar, 


Getting  Ready.  27 

Stigand,  Bertric,  and  Fletch  occupied  spacious  berths 
in  the  main  saloon. 

In  the  morning  when  we  awoke  we  were  riding  at 
anchor  among  famiHar  and  friendly  craft,  in  front  of 
the  Appledore  House,  at  the  Isles  of  Shoals. 


28 


Starboard  and  Port. 


'^^ 


CHAPTER  II. 

A    SPLENDID     RUN. 

"  I  never  think  without  a  thrill 
Of  wild  and  pure  delight 
Of  all  the  leagues  of  blue,  blue  sea, 
Which  I  have  sailed  o'er  merrily 
In  day,  or  dead  of  night." — Faber. 


ter 


HE  Isles  of  Shoals  consist  of  a  group 
of  bare  rocks,  which  evidently  re- 
belled against  the  geological  tyran- 
ny of  the  past,  and  succeeded  in 
just  getting  their  heads  above  wa- 
They  are  very  unique  in  appearance,  having  been 
doomed,  apparently  in  punishment  for  their  disobedi- 
ence in  not  staying  below,  to  have  few  of  the  peculiar 
features  of  ordinary  terra  firma.  They  are  no  more 
nor  less  than  a  reef  which  has  pushed  its  way  up  above 
the  surface,  and  which  pays  for  its  rashness  by  being 
compelled  to  suffer  the  same  jagged  and  angular  and 
irregular  appearance  which  its  less  successful  neigh- 
bors in  the  depths  possess.  There  is  but  one  tree  on 
the  group,  and  that  shoots  up  through  the  piazza  of 
the  Appledore  Hotel,  as  though  the  islands  were,  after 
a  sort,  unfriendly  to  it. 

Compelled  to  postpone  our  start  on  account  of  the 
fog,  we  resigned  ourselves  with  good  grace  to  the 
pleasures  of  this  novel  spot  for  twenty-four  hours.     I 


A  Splendid  Run.  29 

was  myself  quite  at  home  there,  for  I  had  spent  many 
a  week  in  roving  about  on  Star,  Smutty  Nose,  Lon- 
doners, and  Duck,  and  in  a  thousand  and  one  excur- 
sions after  all  sorts  of  fish.  Of  course  I  hastened  at 
once  to  pay  my  regards  to  Mrs.  Thaxter,  who  holds  a 
kind  of  court  in  her  cottage  during  the  summer  sea- 
son, and  whose  name  has  become  a  household  word 
with  those  who  love  the  songs  of  the  sea.  In  her 
poems  there  is  the  peculiar  and  refreshing  fragrance 
and  exhilaration  of  salt  air.  She  is  exceedingly  ac- 
cessible, and  has  a  genial  welcome  for  all  the  crowd 
of  great  and  little  who  pay  their  tribute  of  respect  to 
her  genius. 

In  the  afternoon  we  all  went  over  to  Duck,  about  a 
mile  from  Appledore,  a  spot  that  is  redolent  of  the 
memory  of  shipwrecks  and  ghouls,  and  all  kinds  of  un- 
canny adventures.  We  took  our  lines  with  us,  and 
caught  sea-perch  until  we  were  tired  of  hauling  them 
in,  and  then  loaded  our  guns  for  medrakes.  They  are 
a  very  cunning  bird,  and  can  be  shot,  in  this  place  at 
least,  only  by  stratagem.  When  we  landed,  the  picket- 
guard  of  these  beauties,  whose  wings  we  were  in  search 
of,  gave  the  alarm,  and  soon  the  whole  army,  scattered 
in  graceful  groups  over  the  island,  took  flight,  and  flew 
in  circles  above  us,  screaming  out  their  defiance.  High- 
er and  higher  they  soared,  until  they  seemed  but  specks 
of  white  above  our  heads.  We  sat  down  on  the  rocks 
to  wait  for  their  descent,  and  our  patience  was  soon  re- 
warded by  seeing  first  one  and  then  another  lower  his 
flight,  as  though  prompted  by  a  dangerous  curiosity  to 
see  who  we  were. 

When  they  were  within  a  reasonable  shooting  dis- 


30  Starboard  and  Port. 

tancc  I  let  off  a  barrel,  with  the  expectation  of  doing 
execution  at  the  next  shot.  At  the  explosion  the  birds 
were  apparently  convinced  either  that  we  had  no  more 
powder  or  that  we  were  bad  marksmen,  and  that  they 
were  consequently  safe,  so  they  fluttered  at  short  range 
all  around  us.  That  is  the  time  to  do  your  work. 
Three  discharges,  and  three  birds  fell.  The  whole 
flock  then  gathered  to  see  what  was  the  matter,  and  a 
couple  more  discharges  gave  us  all  the  birds  we  want- 
ed. We  despoiled  them  of  their  wings,  and  after  a 
pleasant  row  heard  the  welcome  call  to  supper  on  the 
part  of  our  Mongolian. 

On  Saturday  morning  we  let  off  our  guns  as  a  good- 
bye to  the  islanders,  who  were  not  yet  up,  and  started 
for  Boone  Island,  expecting  to  lay  our  course  from  that 
point  to  Seal  Island,  on  the  S.W.  end  of  Nova  Scotia. 
We  had  about  four  hundred  miles  before  us,  with  all 
the  delightful  uncertainties  of  a  long  trip  at  sea.  The 
wind,  which  is  always  persistently  wrong,  favored  us  as 
we  sailed  away  from  the  Shoals,  and  then  left  us  when 
we  were  off  Boone.  All  that  day  there  was  a  dead 
calm.  We  tried  to  break  the  monotony  of  ennui  by 
fishing,  but  only  dogfish  rewarded  our  toil.  We 
brought  out  the  checker-board,  and  challenged  each 
other ;  we  listened  to  sailors'  yarns,  and  told  yarns 
ourselves  ;  but,  somehow,  that  regular  and  awful  swell 
which  came  from  the  eastward  unfitted  us  for  long  en- 
joyment of  any  thing,  and  produced  a  certain  restless- 
ness which  is  a  symptom  of  inward  distress.  Boone 
Island  seemed  to  be  a  magnet,  and  we  a  toy  vessel 
with  which  it  was  playing.  At  ten  in  the  morning  it 
stood  to  the  eastward  ;  at  twelve  it  stood  to  the  south- 


A  Splendid  Rtm.  31 

east ;  at  three  in  the  afternoon  it  stood  to  the  south  ; 
at  five  it  stood  to  the  southwest ;  and  at  sundown  it 
stood  almost  directly  west.  We  had  spent  the  whole 
day  in  sailing,  or  rather  in  drifting  around  it,  and  were 
never  so  thankful  as  when  darkness  shut  down  and 
covered  up  the  tower.  But  even  then  the  light  shone 
across  the  waters  at  us  with  an  unnatural  brilliancy,  to 
remind  us  that  it  still  held  us  in  place. 

"And  evening's  breath,  wandering  here  and  there 
Over  the  quivering  surface  of  the  stream, 
Wakes  not  one  ripple  from  its  summer  dream." 

Shelley. 

There  is  nothing  quite  so  demoralizing  as  a  dead 
calm.  A  blow  is  exhilarating,  exciting,  and  calls  up  the 
nervous  energy  of  a  man  ;  but  a  calm  cuts  deep  into  his 
nature,  and  lets  out  every  thing  in  his  soul  that  is  sour. 
We  were  not  exactly  seasick,  but  we  were  miserable. 
When  Ah  Boo,  who  was  as  chipper  as  ever,  called  us  to 
dinner,  we  answered  the  summons  in  a  sluggish  sort  of 
way,  as  though  it  were  a  matter  of  indifference  to  us 
whether  we  ever  ate  again  or  not.  We  went  into  the 
saloon,  however,  and  most  positively  asserted  to  each 
other  our  entire  freedom  from  any  disagreeable  symp- 
toms whatever.  We  did  our  utmost  to  be  cheerful, 
but  there  was  very  evidently  a  serious  cast  to  all  our 
thoughts.  When  the  soup  was  spilled  in  some  one's 
lap  as  the  Nettie  rolled,  no  one  laughed  ;  and  if  you  had 
looked  into  our  eyes  at  that  moment  you  would  have 
discovered  a  certain  vacancy,  as  though  the  interior 
man  were  busy  looking  after  his  own  welfare,  and  had 
no  interest  in  external  things.  Indeed,  an  Atlantic  swell, 
when  there  is  no  breeze  to  steady  the  vessel,  is  entirely 


32 


Starboard  and  Port. 


sui  generis,  and  must  be  experienced  to  be  understood. 
No  description  can  do  it  justice.  It  rolls  the  boat  in 
the  direction  of  the  starboard,  reserving  a  faint  lurch 

toward  the  lar- 
board ;  then,  revers- 
ing the  motion,  it 
rolls  the  boat  to- 
ward the  larboard 
quarter,  giving  it  at 
the  same  time  a 
lurch  toward  the 
starboard ;  and  at 
last,  as  though  in 
a  quandary,  or  suf- 
fering from  inde- 
cision, it  makes  a 
tangled  snarl  of  every  conceivable  kind  of  motion,  the 
general  and  total  effect  of  which  on  the  nervous  sys- 
tem, and  especially  on  the  digestive  apparatus,  is  far,  I 
may  say,  very  far  from  agreeable. 

When  in  their  normal  condition,  men  on  board  ship 
are  gregarious.  They  make  friends  quickly,  and,  getting 
together  in  select  groups,  chat  the  hours  away  as  easily 
as  a  rivulet  ripples  over  the  stones  ;  but  when  the  con- 
dition of  affairs  is  such  as  I  have  described,  they  avoid 
each  other  with  a  mutual  persistency  that  is  very  sug- 
gestive. A  man  who  feels  every  time  the  vessel  sinks 
under  his  feet  as  though  a  sudden  vacuum  had  been 
produced  in  the  region  of  the  stomach,  and  who  puts 
his  hands  on  that  part  of  his  anatomy  with  an  instinct- 
ive dread  lest  it  may  have  been  displaced,  is  generally 
in  such  a  reflective  mood  that  he  does  not  take  readily 


A  Splendid  Rtm.  33 

to  the  cheering  words  of  those  who  have  been  hardened 
to  that  experience,  but  with  a  forced  and  somewhat 
sickly  smile  expresses  a  wish  to  be  undisturbed  while 
he  follows  out  a  train  of  abstruse  thought. 

Well,  at  last  the  day  wore  out,  and  the  time  arrived 
to  make  up  the  slate  for  the  night,  and  to  set  the  watch. 
I  always  work  when  on  board  the  yacht,  taking  my  turn 
at  the  fore  and  my  trick  at  the  wheel,  and  the  an- 
nouncement of  this  purpose  decided  the  others  to  do 
the  same.  It  fell  to  Bertric  and  myself  to  watch  on 
deck  from  twelve  to  six,  and  so  I  lay  down  at  nine  for 
a  nap.  When  I  was  called,  I  heard  the  rain  pattering 
on  the  deck,  while  the  same  old  rat-tat-too  of  the  reef- 
ing-points  showed  that  the  calm  had  not  ended.  I 
walked  the  deck  for  a  couple  of  hours,  covered  all  up  in 
water-proof,  when  I  heard  a  noise  forward  which  at- 
tracted my  attention.  At  that  time  the  Nettie  was 
rolling  in  the  most  reckless  way  possible.  The  main- 
boom  had  a  strong  guy  on  it,  but  in  spite  of  all  it  slat- 
ted until  it  seemed  as  though  it  would  tear  the  very 
masts  out  of  her.  If  there  had  been  a  breath  of  wind 
only,  our  sails  aloft  would  have  steadied  her,  but  a 
feather  dropped  from  the  hand  would  have  fallen  at 
your  feet,  so  still  it  was. 

Going  forward,  I  noticed  that  Bertric  was  leaning 
over  the  starboard  rail,  apparently  contemplating  the 
water.  He  "was  so  thoroughly  absorbed  that  when  I 
spoke  he  failed  to  answer.  I  spoke  again,  and  still  no 
answer.  Then  I  turned  away,  knowing  that  one  fellow- 
being  at  least  was  in  misery — a  misery  too  deep  for 
ordinary  utterance.  A  while  after  I  saw  him  sitting, 
disconsolate  on  the  bow,  and  said, 

B  2 


34 


Starboard  and  Port. 


"  My  dear  fellow,  how  do  you  like  yachting  ?" 

"  Like  it  ?"  he  replied ;  "  I  hardly  think  I  should 
venture  to  use  that  word.  However,  I  am  a  wiser 
and  sadder  man  just  now  than  ever  before.  My  first 
impressions  of  this  thing  are  somewhat  modified,  and 
I  think  I  should  give  rather  a  different  definition  to 
the  word  than  that  I  have  been  accustomed  to." 

"Ah !  well,  how  would  you  define  it  under  the  light 
of  your  present  experiences?" 

"  I  should  say  of  yachting,"  he  answered,  in  tones 
slow  and  measured,  and  not  altogether  cheerful,  "  that 
it  consists  in  getting  up  at  twelve,  and  keeping  watch 
until  six,  in  a  dead  calm,  with  a  heavy  groundswell, 
and  a  fearfully  unhappy  revolution  going  on  inside,  to 
which  death  seems  like  the  sleep  of  a  child." 


A  Splendid  Rtin.  35 

He  then  relapsed  into  his  introspective  mood  once 
more,  and  I  left  him  to  his  meditations. 

Thinking  to  cheer  him  up,  it  came  into  my  heart  to 
give  him  a  serenade.  So  holding  on  to  the  shrouds  to 
keep  myself  steady,  I  began,  in  a  voice  vigorous,  if 
not  musical,  that  song  which  is  a  precious  piece  of  de- 
ception to  landsmen : 

"A  life  on  the  ocean  wave, 

A  home  on  the  rolling  deep." 

Bertric  caught  the  tones  of  my  voice,  when  I  first 
opened  this  sort  of  vocal  cannonade,  and  when  I  sang 
the  fifth  word  of  the  second  line — I  think  I  must  have 
dwelt  on  it  for  a  couple  of  beats  longer  than  the  time 
usually  allotted  to  it — I  heard  coming  through  the  dark- 
ness a  sort  of  sigh,  which  deepened  into  a  moan,  evident- 
ly a  feeble  response  from  the  fore-chains.  When  I  had 
finished,  I  was  surprised  to  see  Bertric  with  a  great  ef- 
fort, and  with  a  face  too  awry  for  happiness,  standing 
on  his  feet  as  though  he  intended  to  return  my  favor. 
Pretty  soon  I  heard  in  feeble  tones,  which  sounded 
more  like  a  hollow  and  mocking  echo  than  any  thing 
else,  these  words : 

"A  life  on  the  ocean  wave, 

[Pause,  as  though  undecided  to  continue.] 
The — man — that  writ  it  was  green  ; 
He  never  had  been  to  sea, 
And  never  a  gale  had  seen." 

[Suppressed  "  Oh,  goodness !"] 

After  which,  in  a  voice  too  pathetic  for  description, 
came  these  lines : 

"  He  never  had  seen  a  poor  fellow 

Growing  thinner  every  day ;  [Pause.] 
A-sittin'  down  by  the  forrard  chock, 
And  throwin'  himself  away."    ["  Oh  !   oh  !   oh  !"] 


Starboard  a7id  Port. 


1  saw  that  the  case  was  a 
hopeless  one,  that  my  friend  was 
in  a  frame  of  mind  to  which 
soHtude  was  the  only  balm,  and 
so  walked  aft  to  talk  with  the 
captain. 

At  about  two  o'clock  a  faint 
breeze  sprang  up  from  the  cast- 
ward.  The  sails  gently  filled, 
and  there  was  the  ripple  of 
progress  over  the  side  of  the 
boat.  Soon  the  wind  increased, 
and  we  made  five  knots  an  hour. 
By  six  o'clock  it  was  blowing 
half  a  gale,  dead  ahead. 

How  proudly  the  Nettie  dash- 
ed aside  the  waves,  sending  the 
white-caps  high  in  the  air,  and  landing  them  all  over 
the  deck !  The  water  was  of  a  deep,  dark  blue,  and 
we  sped  along  at  a  great  rate.  It  was  impossible, 
however,  to  lay  our  course  for  Seal  Island,  and  so  we 
concluded  at  ten  o'clock  to  run  for  Portland,  as  we 
were  in  a  pretty  demoralized  condition.  The  wind 
freshened  still  more,  and  the  ocean  seemed  to  be  one 
mass  of  foam.  The  yacht  heeled  over  to  her  work, 
and  went  like  a  magic  creature.  That  was  glorious 
sailing.  We  reached  the  city  at  about  six  P.M.,  and 
I  have  an  impression  that  more  gratitude  was  felt  than 
expressed  when  we  dropped  anchor. 

"  It  would  be  very  pleasant,"  said  Ruloff  the  next 
day,  "  instead  of  laying  our  course  directly  across  to 
Seal  Island,  to  work  our  way  along  quietly  inshore 


A  Splendid  Rtm.  37 

until  we  reach  Mount  Desert,  and  then  turn  our  face 
southward." 

"  Yes,"  I  repHed,  "that  would  be  better  than  the  ex- 
perience of  the  last  two  days.  So  long  as  we  can  just 
as  well  keep  in  smooth  water'we  might  as  well  do  it." 

And  Bertric,  "Although  I  enjoy  being  rocked  in  the 
cradle  of  the  deep,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  my  im- 
pression is  that  a  stationary  bed  once  in  a  while  is  a 
healthy  change." 

And  Stigand,  "  I  must  say  that  for  a  day  or  two  at 
least  I  should  like  to  keep  within  a  reasonable  distance 
of  the  land.  The  motion  of  the  water  didn't  seriously 
affect  me  the  other  day,  but  still  I  should  like  to  study 
the  coast  for  a  while." 

And  Algar,  who  is  a  perfect  sailor,  "  I  have  just  come 
across  a  man  on  shore  who  is  a  government  pilot  from 
Portland  to  Halifax,  and  who  is  ready  to  take  our  boat 
at  an  hour's  notice." 

So  it  was  agreed  to  run  for  Mount  Desert.  Algar  went 
ashore  and  made  an  arrangement  with  Edwards,  who  is 
thoroughly  posted  as  to  every  reef  and  rock,  and  in  a 
couple  of  hours  the  anchor  was  weighed  once  more,  and 
we  were  gliding  along  among  the  islands  of  Casco  Bay. 
Every  one  was  in  a  gay  mood  that  morning.  We  sang 
songs,  told  stories,  and  played  practical  jokes,  as  though 
we  were  all  boys  again.  The  breeze  was  from  the 
southwest,  and  promised  to  hold  all  day.  It  was  very 
gentle,  to  be  sure,  but  with  our  three  jibs  and  our  two 
gaff-topsails  we  managed  to  work  along  at  about  six 
knots.  At  one  time  we  found  ourselves  within  a  hun- 
dred yards  of  an  island  in  water  as  smooth  as  a  mill- 
pond  ;  at  another  the  Nettie  rose  and  fell  to  the  rhyth- 


38  Starboard  and  Port. 

mic  will  of  the  waters  as  we  passed  an  opening  between 
two  sheltered  spots.  For  hours  we  sailed  thus,  on  this 
most  perfect  of  all  summer  days,  until  at  last  we  made 
Seguin,  about  twenty  miles  from  Portland.  The  wind 
then  began  to  freshen,  and  after  consultation  it  was 
deemed  a  pity  to  lose  such  an  opportunity  to  get  across 
that  much-to-be-dreaded  Bay  of  Fundy,  so  we  gave  up 
our  inshore  plan,  and  laid  our  course  E.S.E.  direct- 
ly for  Seal  Island.  At  one  in  the  afternoon  we  were 
going  at  the  rate  of  eight  knots,  and  at  two  we  crawled 
up  to  nine. 

Such  a  day  is  very  seldom  met  with.  It  was  a  white 
day  in  the  journal  of  our  trip,  and  the  sailing  was  the 
very  perfection  of  motion.  That  was  yachting  indeed. 
The  sea  was  of  that  supernaturally  deep  blue,  the  sight 
of  which  seems  to  entirely  satisfy  a  man,  and  fill  him 
full,  and  make  him  feel  that  language  is  so  poor  a  ve- 
hicle of  exact  expression  that  it  is  better  to  say  nothing 
than  to  talk.  We  nevertheless  kept  saying  to  each 
other  in  an  explosive  sort  of  fashion,  "  Isn't  it  splendid  !" 
"  Isn't  it  magnificent !"  and  then,  conscious  that  splendid 
and  magnificent  are  very  common  words  in  which  to 
describe  such  a  sight,  we  fell  to  joining  parts  of  words 
together,  after  the  fashion  of  a  friend  of  mine,  and,  mar- 
rying magnificent,  after  cutting  away  the  last  two  syl- 
lables, to  superb,  after  slicing  off  the  first  syllable,  found 
some  slight  aesthetic  satisfaction  in  calling  the  whole 
thing  simply  magniperb. 

Such  sailing  as  that  was  worship.  I  think  my  better 
nature  is  never  more  completely  stirred  than  when  I 
am  gazing  upon  the  broad  deep,  the  most  wonderful 
part  of  God's  creation. 


A  Splendid  Run.  39 

"  God  be  with  thee,  gladsome  Ocean ! 
How  gladly  greet  I  thee  once  more ! 
Ships,  and  waves,  and  ceaseless  motion, 
And  men  rejoicing  on  thy  shore. 

"  O,  ye  hopes  that  stir  within  me, 

Health  comes  with  you  from  above ! 
God  is  with  me,  God  is  in  me ! 
I  can  not  die,  if  Life  be  Love." 

So  sang  Coleridge  very  sweetly,  and  so  every  heart 
sings  on  such  a  glorious  day  as  that.  The  grand  ex- 
panse was  but  the  floor  of  a  great  cathedral,  whose 
groined  roof  was  the  over-arching  heaven ;  and  none 
could  stand  within  that  sacred  place  and  listen  to  the 
great  organ  of  the  waters  praising  God  without  a  bound- 
ing pulse  and  an  ecstatic  joy. 

The  sky  was  wondrously  abysmal  in  its  infinite  depths 
of  color,  and  the  few  clouds,  huge  cumuli  of  snowy 
white,  shaded  to  a  pearly  gray  in  the  middle,  hung  in 
stately  grandeur  here  and  there,  as  though  ordinary 
clouds,  like  the  rank  and  file  of  an  army,  had  been  left 
in  their  encampment  below  the  horizon,  while  the  brig- 
adier and  major  generals  of  vapor  leisurely  reconnoi- 
tred the  field  of  future  action. 

That  livelong  day  we  saw  not  a  single  vessel.  We 
were  out  of  the  beaten  track  of  commerce ;  for  the 
fishermen,  the  lumbermen,  and  the  steamers  bound  to 
the  east  or  west  kept  inshore.  It  was  a  very  deli- 
cious sense  of  loneliness  which  filled  our  hearts  with 
wondrous  satisfaction  as  we  sped  along.  The  land  had 
long  since  faded  out  of  sight  altogether,  and  the  white- 
caps  were  our  only  companions.  The  Nettie  heeled 
over  to  her  work,  and  seemed  to  enjoy  it  as  much  as 
any  one.     Every  stitch  of  canvas  told,  for  the  wind 


40  Starboai'd  and  Port. 

was  on  her  quarter,  and  she  hurried  up  to  ten  knots,  as 
though  she  were  anxious  to  show  her  very  best  speed, 
and  brushed  the  water  from  her  bow  Hke  a  thing  of 
life.  She  would  rise  to  the  top  of  a  wave,  then,  rush- 
ing down  the  other  side,  run  her  jib-boom  into  the  next 
wave,  and  afterward  Hft  herself  and  shake  the  water 
into  spray.  Hood  has  put  this  into  better  language 
than  I  can  command  : 

"With  quaking  sails  the  little  boat 
Climbed  up  the  foaming  heap ; 
"With  quaking  sails  it  paused  awhile, 

At  balance  on  the  steep ; 
Then,  rushing  down  the  nether  slope. 
Plunged  with  a  dizzy  sweep." 

It  was  a  kind  of  ecstatic  pleasure  to  stand  at  her 
bows  and  watch  her  as  she  plunged  into  a  huge  hill  of 
water,  throwing  it  up  on  deck  in  a  constant  cascade. 
And  the  musical  rush  of  the  waves  along  her  side  as 
we  lay  on  deck  listening  to  it  was  a  very  delightful  ex- 
perience. The  sound  ceased  almost  altogether  when 
she  lifted  herself  high  in  air,  and  then  changed  to  a 
grand  chorus  as  she  flung  herself  back  into  its  bosom 
almost  up  to  her  deck,  with  a  grand  swash  which  made 
a  bed  of  snowy  foam  all  around  her. 

"  What  a  difference  there  is,  though,  in  the  apparent 
speed  of  vessels,"  I  said  to  the  pilot.  "  How  fast  are 
we  going,  Edwards?" 

"  Well,"  he  answered,  looking  over  the  side,  "  about 
six  knot,  I  reckon." 

"■  No  more?"  I  queried,  disappointed. 

"  No,  I  guess  not,"  was  the  answer. 

The  captain  chuckled,  and  said  in  an  undertone, 
"  Pshaw  !  she's  going  ten,  if  she's  going  at  all." 


A  Splendid  Run.  41 

'    "  Good,"  said  Ruloff,  "  let's  out  with  the  log." 

So  we  threw  the  log  over,  and  in  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  hauled  it  in  again  to  find  that  she  was  trotting 
along  at  the  rate  of  ten  and  a  half  knots. 

"  The  pilot,"  said  the  captain,  "  has  been  accustomed 
to  those  blunt-headed  coasters,  which  fight  the  water 
at  every  step,  and  make  an  awful  bother  when  they 
travel ;  but  our  boat  is  as  sharp  as  a  knife,  and  goes 
right  along  without  making  any  fuss  about  it." 

About  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  the  gentlemen 
were  sitting  by  the  cat-head,  and  I  heard  such  a  roar 
of  laughter  that  I  immediately  went  forward  to  have 
my  part  of  the  fun.  They  had  been  listening  to  a 
yarn  which  Fowler  had  reeled  off,  and  the  denouement 
was  so  incredible  that  they  had  greeted  it  with  shouts 
of  wild  derision. 

Fowler  was  a  character.  He  was  about  sixty  years 
of  age,  and  a  first-rate  sailor ;  but  he  could  tell  the 
most  preposterous  stories  about  himself,  and  had  just 
been  indulging  in  this  propensity. 

"  Well,  you  may  laugh ;  but  what  I  tell  ye  is  the 
truth.  I  was  there,  and  ought  to  know  all  about  it. 
I  wouldn't  tell  you  what  wan't  true,  and  I  don't  make 
nothin'  by  tellin'  it  bigger'n  'tis." 

"  Come,  come,  Fowler;  take  off  about  fifty  per  cent., 
and  we'll  believe  it,"  said  Bertric. 

"No,  sir!"  with  a  fearful  emphasis  on  the  sir;  "I 
won't  take  off  the  worth  of  a  spun  yarn."  And  with 
that  he  began  to  chew  vigorously  on  the  mass  of  to- 
bacco which  filled  his  mouth. 

"  What  is  it.  Fowler?"  I  said,  as  I  joined  the  group. 

"Yes,  tell  it  again,  and  see  what  the  dominie  will 


42  Starboard  and  Port. 

say.  Tell  it  again ;  it's  like  a  good  sermon,  and  will 
bear  repetition." 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Fowler,  with  a  modest  laugh ;  "  I 
don't  tell  no  stories  twice." 

"  Come,  come,  let's  have  it,"  I  said,  "  and  I  will  de- 
cide on  its  credibility." 

So,  with  a  kind  of  chuckle,  he  threw  away  the  tobac- 
co, fumbled  in  his  pocket  for  a  fresh  supply,  a  suffi- 
cient quantity  of  which  he  cut  off  with  a  knife  that 
had  seen  hard  service,  and  said  apologetically — 

"  Well,  I  was  only  tellin'  what  actually  happened  to 
me  once ;"  and  with  that  preface  he  shut  the  knife,  put 
the  tobacco  he  had  cut  off  into  one  side  of  his  capa- 
cious mouth,  and  began : 

"  You  see,  it  was  twenty-two  year  ago,  and  yet  I  re- 
member it  as  if  it  was  yesterday." 

"  Why,  you  said  twenty  years  ago  when  you  told  it 
to  us,"  chimed  in  Stigand. 

"No  I  didn't,  neither;  and  if  I  did,  what's  two 
years,  I  should  like  to  know?  Wall,  whenever  it  hap- 
pened, it  was  thus-wise,  and  what  I'm  goin'  to  tell  ye 
is  as  true  as  this  wind's  sou'west.  I  was  on  board  the 
schooner  Sarah  Martin,  and  it  was  the  gth  of  March, 
and,  more  than  that,  it  was  at  one  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing. I  tell  you  it  was  awful  cold,  though.  The  wind 
whistled  right  through  a  feller's  pea-jacket,  and  more'n 
once  I  had  to  look  down  to  see  if  I  had  forgot  to  put 
any  thing  on  when  my  watch  was  called — it  was  so 
mighty  freezing.  Not  much  like  this  weather,  I  tell 
ye ;  but  a  regular  old  Marcher,  with  snow  and  ice  in 
his  teeth." 

"  Where  were  you,  Fowler,  and  what  were  you 
doincf?" 


A  Splendid  Ru7z.  43 

"  Where  were  I  ?  why,  we  was  off  Nantucket,  cod- 
ding— that's  where  we  was  ;  and  'taint  easy  work  pullin' 
in  a  fifteen-pound  cod  with  a  forty-fathom  Hne,  and 
findin'  a  dogfish  on,  either.  Why,  a  feller's  hands  get 
so  numb  that  he  don't  know  he's  got  any,  and  thinks 
he's  left  'em  to  home." 

"  Well,  go  ahead ;  what  were  you  doing  at  one 
o'clock  in  the  morning?" 

"Doing?  well,  I'm  just  goin'  to  tell  ye,  only  you 
won't  let  me  tell  a  straight  story.  You  get  me  all 
snarled  up  like  a  coil  of  wet  rope,  and  it  takes  me  a 
little  while  to  get  the  kinks  out,  and  tell  it  smooth." 

"  Good  ;  take  your  own  time,  and  if  any  man  inter- 
rupts you  again,  we'll  make  him  take  an  extra  trick  at 
the  wheel." 

"Wall,  that  would  be  a  good  joke.  By  Jiminy! 
ha,  ha !  where  do  you  s'pose  we'd  go  to  if  you  should 
do  that?  I  guess  you'd  have  to  put  an  extra  watch  on 
deck ;  and  as  for  Halifax,  well,  we  might  drift  there, 
and  then  agin  we  might  not.  Trick  at  the  wheel!  ha, 
ha !  that  would  do  well  enough  when  we  are  at  an- 
chor; but  Lord,  such  a  day  as  to-day,  if  the  skipper 
should  tell  one  of  you  gents  to  keep  her  full  and  by, 
or  to  just  give  her  a  good  full,  and  keep  her  skippin' 
along,  you'd  head  her  for  Boone  Island,  like's  not." 

"  Well,  Fowler,  uncoil  your  story,  and  I'll  not  inter- 
rupt you  again." 

"  As  I  was  a-sayin',  we  was  coddin'  off  Nantucket ; 
the  wind  blew  heavy  from  the  nor'east.  There  was  a 
mighty  sea  runnin',  and  the  cappen,  seein'  the  rest  o' 
the  fleet  had  come  to  anchor,  said  to  me, '  Fowler,'  said 
he,  'hadn't  we  better  let  go  our  mud-hook?'     I  cast 


44  Starboard  and  Port, 

my  eyes  to  the  norrard,  and  sec  it  was  goin'  to  blow 
pretty  stiff  all  ni<;lit,so  I  said,  'You  can  do  as  you  like, 
Cap ;  but  if  she  was  my  craft,  I  know  what  I'd  do, 
mighty  quick.' 

" '  What's  that  ?'  scz  he,  kinder  anxious ;  for  I  no- 
ticed he  always  come  to  me  when  it  was  a-blowing 
hard. 

« *  Why,'  sez  I,  *  them  clouds,  they  look  ugly,  and  it's 
goin'  to  be  a  nasty  night,  and  if  we  can  get  a  fair  hold 
of  the  bottom,  it's  all  right.' 

"  So  the  anchor  was  let  go,  and  we  bobbed  about  a 
good  deal  worse  than  we  did  t'other  night.  That  was 
a  mill-pond  side  of  the  sea  we  were  in.  Talk  of 
mountains — they  war'n't  nowhere  side  of  them  waves. 
Why,  sir,  once  the  schooner  pinted  her  bowsprit  right 
for  the  North  Star,  and  you  know  she's  got  to  stand 
up  pretty  well  on  end  to  do  that. 

"  I  was  just  goin'  out  on  the  bowsprit  to  furl  the  jib, 
when  a  flaw  of  wind  took  the  sail,  and  at  the  same 
minute  a  heavy  wave  struck  us,  and  threw  me  off  my 
feet.  I  hung  on  to  the  clew  of  the  jib,  expectin'  to  be 
landed  against  the  larboard  rail,  you  know.  But  the 
wind  was  so  strong  it  blew  the  jib  outboard,  and,  in- 
stead of  droppin'  on  the  deck,  I  fell  flat  on  my  back  in 
the  water.  The  tide  was  runnin'  like  a  race-horse,  and 
when  I  got  about  midships,  as  I  reckoned,  a  roller 
lifted  me  about  twenty  feet  above  the  deck,  and  I 
hollered." 

"  You  hollered  ?"  said  Bertric. 

"  Well,  I  guess  I  did,  and  the  crew  heard  me,  too, 
and  the  cappen,  he  heard  me.  I  struck  out,  hopin*  to 
get  hold  of  the  rail,  but  'twar'n't  no  use.     I  give  my- 


A  Splendid  Run.  45 

self  up  for  lost.  No  more  coddin'  for  me,  I  said  to 
myself.     Just  then  I  heard  the  cappen  say — 

" '  I'm  throwin'  ye  a  line,  Fowler,'  and  with  that  I 
heard  a  splash  close  to  me.  It  was  so  dark  I  couldn't 
see  nothin',  but  I  heard  the  rope  strike  the  water.  I 
had  the  presence  of  mind  to  think  that  the  rope  would 
sink,  so  I  fumbled  round  about  a  foot  under  water  and 
caught  hold  of  somethin'.  It  was  the  whippin'  of  the 
line. 

"  Well,  I  hung  on  with  an  awful  grip,  and  could  feel 
that  they  were  haulin'  away  at  t'other  end.  I  never 
come  so  near  faintin'  in  my  life,  but  'twar'n't  no  time 
to  faint  just  then.  The  sailors  was  haulin'  me  on  board, 
when  one  of  them  looked  over  the  side  and  see  that  I 
had  only  the  whippin'  in  my  hand." 

"  I  thought  you  said  it  was  so  dark  you  couldn't 
see,"  broke  in  Ruloff. 

"  Well,  I  was  almost  aboard  then,  and  besides  it  lit 
up  about  two  o'clock." 

"  Two  o'clock,"  cried  Stigand,  "  why,  you  fell  off  the 
bows  at  one.  Were  you  in  the  water  in  March  for  an 
hour,  and  did  it  take  you  sixty  minutes,  with  a  strong 
tide,  to  go  from  the  stem  to  the  stern  ?" 

"  Wall,  it  might  not  have  been  exactly  two,  but  it 
was  nigh  on  to  it ;  and  besides  that  I  was  strugglin'  all 
the  time,  and  the  time  might  have  seemed  a  little 
longer  than  it  really  was ;  and  more  than  that,  I  had 
to  guess  at  the  time,  cos  I  couldn't  let  go  that  rope  to 
get  my  watch  out  and  see  just  the  minute  I  was 
drownded,"  said  Fowler,  not  in  the  least  discon- 
certed. 

"  Well,  when  I  was  most  up,  one  of  the  sailors,  he 


46  Starboard  and  Port. 

said, '  Cappcn,  hadn't  wc  better  get  the  gaff,  and  make 
fast  to  him  ?'  At  that  I  must  say  I  felt  mad.  It  was 
bad  enough  to  fall  overboard,  but  to  be  gaffed  as 
though  I  was  a  dogfish  was  more  than  I  could  stand, 
so  I  really  believe  I  fainted  away.  At  any  rate  the 
next  thing  I  knew  I  was  in  the  cabin  stretched  out  on 
one  of  the  transoms. 

"  The  cappen  stood  over  me,  shaking  me  and  say- 
ing, '  Fowler,  let  go  that  rope.'  I  looked  down  to  my 
hand,  and  found  that  I  had  hold  of  about  three  inches 
of  it,  with  such  a  grip  that  I  couldn't  let  go.  So  I 
took  hold  of  the  rope  with  my  right  hand,  and  kinder 
coaxed  it  away  from  the  fingers  of  the  other  hand. 

"  I  tell  you,  that  was  a  grip,  though,  wasn't  it  ?" 

This  remark  was  addressed  to  me,  and  I  answered 
yes,  without  further  comment  on  the  adventure. 

Just  then  we  saw  the  captain  hauling  in  the  log,  and 
to  our  delight  we  found  that  in  the  last  four  hours  we 
had  made  a  trifle  over  fifty  miles.  The  wind  still  held 
its  own,  and  the  prospect  for  a  speedy  trip  to  Halifax 
was  good. 

That  evening  at  sundown  we  feared  the  breeze  would 
leave  us,  but,  instead  of  beginning  to  die  away  at  about 
four  o'clock,  and  breathing  its  last  at  about  seven,  it 
held  on  until  about  nine,  and  died  altogether  at  about 
twelve.  For  four  hours  we  had  a  touch  of  the  old  ex- 
perience. The  stars  shone  brightly,  the  sky  was  clear 
and  almost  cloudless,  but  the  swell  was  something  aw- 
ful for  an  inexperienced  nervous  system.  Indeed,  it  is 
quite  incredible  that  a  vessel  can  roll  as  we  did  with 
not  a  breath  of  air  stirring.  The  Nettie  would  be  per- 
fectly still  for  a  moment,  as  though  we  were  under  a 


A  Splendid  Run. 


47 


lee,  and  then  she  would  slowly  heel  over  to  the  star- 
board, and  continue  to  roll  until  she  actually  put  her 
rail  under  water,  then  straighten  herself  up,  only  to  re- 
verse the  motion,  and  put  her  larboard  rail  under.  The 
accompanying  diagram  sufficiently  accounts  for  any  un- 
pleasantness which  may  have  arisen  among  the  com- 
pany on  board.  It  is  supposed  to  represent  the  lines 
which  a  topmast  would  make  against  the  sky,  pro- 
vided it  were  long  enough  to  reach  so  far.  I  can  scarce- 
ly look  at  it  without  discomfort.     What  sympathy, 


then,  shall  be  given  to  one  who  experiences  the  sensa- 
tions which  in  their  fullness  it  so  feebly  suggests.  The 
huge  mainsail  was  so  ungovernable  that  we  concluded 
to  take  it  in  altogether.  At  two  in  the  morning  all 
hands  were  called,  and  in  about  half  an  hour  the  can- 
vas was  snugly  stowed,  and  the  boom  lashed  as  taut  as 
possible.  I  tried  to  sleep,  but  it  was  impossible.  If  I 
lay  on  my  back  I  found  myself  rolled  like  a  barrel  from 


48  Starboard  and  Port, 

side  to  side  of  the  berth.  If  I  doubled  myself  up,  and 
braced  my  knees  against  the  side,  I  maintained  my 
position  until  sleep  relaxed  my  muscles,  when  I  was 
rudely  wakened  with  a  vague  impression  that  I  was  a 
huge  lump  of  dough,  and  that  a  giant  cook  was  knead- 
ing me.  So  I  dressed  myself,  and  spent  the  time  until 
four  in  the  morning  on  deck,  when  a  breeze  from  the 
south  steadied  her,  and  I  went  below  again,  and  was 
lulled  to  sleep  by  the  music  of  the  water  playing  against 
the  side  as  we  went  through  it.  At  seven  we  were 
going  on  at  a  spanking  rate,  and  the  day  promised 
to  rival  the  yesterday  which  we  had  enjoyed  so 
much. 

A  good  breakfast,  and  we  were  ready  for  any  fate. 
Ah  Boo,  in  whose  presence  we  quote  the  favorite  lines 
of  Leigh  Hunt,  and  say  in  chorus,  "  Abou  Ben  Adhem, 
may  his  tribe  increase,"  until  he  breaks  out  into  a  fit 
of  childlike  laughter  which  lights  up  his  dusky  face 
with  sunshine,  prepared  for  us  a  very  elaborate  meal. 
We  began  our  work  with  a  luscious  blue-fish,  after 
which  followed  in  quick  succession  mutton-chops,  a 
tender  steak,  a  morsel  of  salt  meat,  and  what  the 
sailors  call  slap-jacks  of  the  most  approved  kind.  A 
full  man  is  always  a  hero  ;  the  seat  and  source  of 
prowess  as  well  as  good  temper  is  the  stomach.  This 
is  especially  true  on  board  ship. 

At  ten  that  morning  we  saw  a  fisherman  on  our  lee 
bow,  and  determined  to  run  him  down,  and  find  out 
exactly  where  we  were.  It  is  a  pleasant  experience 
to  speak  a  vessel  at  sea.  There  is  an  excitement 
about  it  that  breaks  into  the  monotony  of  your  life. 
We  saw  this  schooner  in  the  dimmest  distance.     She 


A  Splendid  Run.  49 

lay  pretty  nearly  in  our  course.  At  first  we  could 
only  discover  the  top  of  her  main  topmast.  It  was 
like  a  dull  line  against  the  sky.  An  unpracticed  eye 
would  never  have  detected  it,  but  a  sailor's  eye  is  so 
trained  to  observation  that  nothing  escapes  it.  In  a 
little  while  we  lifted  the  mast  enough  to  see  a  few  feet 
of  the  foremast,  and  after  that  we  saw  the  rigging, 
and  the  masts  coming  apparently  out  of  the  water  as 
though  the  hull  were  sunk,  as  indeed  it  was  to  our 
vision.  By  and  by  we  saw  the  men  on  deck  fishing. 
They  had  come  from  some  point  on  the  Nova  Scotia 
coast,  and  could  give  us  the  information  we  wanted. 
We  bowled  along  until  we  were  within  a  hundred  yards 
of  her,  when  the  captain  cried,  "  Let  her  luff." 

The  wheel  was  put  hard  up,  and  in  a  minute  more 
the  sails  were  flapping. 

"  Ahoy  there !"  yelled  the  captain  to  those  on  the 
fisherman. 

"  Well,  what  is  it  ?"  came  back  in  answer. 

"Which  way  are  we  from  Seal  Island?"  said  the 
captain,  using  his  hands  as  a  trumpet. 

"  East-southeast." 

"  How  far  ?" 

"  About  thirty  miles.     Where  are  you  from  ?" 

"  From  New  York." 

"  Where  bound  ?" 

"  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence." 

The  jib  was  hauled  to  windward,  the  Nettie  payed 
off  slowly,  and  in  a  few  minutes  we  were  striking  out 
at  a  wonderful  gait.  We  sighted  the  light-house  on 
Seal  Island  in  an  hour  and  a  half,  and  then  lay  our 
course  up  the  coast. 

C 


50  Starboard  and  Port. 

Wc  were  very  fortunate  in  that  we  had  no  fog.  Wc 
kept  in  sight  of  the  land  the  rest  of  the  day  and  all 
the  next  night.  It  was  exciting  to  watch  one  light 
as  it  gradually  faded  to  the  size  of  a  taper,  and  then 
went  out  altogether,  and  then  to  watch  the  darkness 
ahead  until  the  dim  taper  twelve  or  fifteen  miles  far- 
ther on  grew  larger  and  larger  until  we  got  abreast  of 
It,  and  counted  it  as  another  milestone  passed.  So  the 
h'ghts  —  some  steady,  some  flash,  some  white,  others 
colored — marked  our  path  over  the  waters  and  told 
us  just  where  we  were. 

I  was  up  at  twelve,  for  I  was  just  a  bit  anxious, 
and  at  one  o'clock  thin  gray  streaks  of  light  broke  in 
the  far  east,  and  by  two  o'clock  we  could  see  quite 
well. 

All  along  the  Nova  Scotia  coast  wrecks  are  to  be 
seen.  Schooners,  lumbermen,  full  -  rigged  ships,  and 
even  ocean  steamers  are  strewn  on  those  merciless 
rocks.  The  day  before  wc  counted  something  like  a 
dozen  in  the  hundred  miles  we  traveled. 

There  are  very  few  buoys  on  this  shore  to  mark  the 
sunken  reefs  which  threaten  the  life  of  every  passing 
vessel,  and  the  light-houses  will  in  nowise  compare  with 
ours.  The  flash  is  not  as  brilliant,  nor  can  it  be  seen 
at  any  great  distance.  One  would  think  that  on  such 
a  ragged  coast  every  possible  means  of  safety  would  be 
employed  ;  but  in  these  two  important  respects — lights 
and  buoys,  the  almost  sole  dependence  of  the  mariner 
in  strange  waters — the  shore  is  strangely  deficient. 

No  landsman  can  appreciate  the  feelings  with  which 
the  sailor  greets  a  light-house.  Each  one  has  its  own 
peculiarity ;  and  when  a  man  peers  into  the  black  dark- 


A  Spkiidid  Run.  51 

nes3  and  catches  just  the  faintest  possible  glimpse  of 
the  h'ght  that  burns  in  the  headland  tower,  he  feels  like 
one  who  is  getting  into  the  midst  of  a  group  of  friends. 
He  watches  it  to  learn  whether  it  is  a  double  or  single 
flash,  or  whether  it  burns  with  a  steady  white  blaze, 
and  having  determined  that,  he  calls  it  by  name,  and 
knows  where  he  is. 

It  is  a  part  of  our  Christianity  to  look  well  to  the 
light-houses  along  our  shores. 

"  The  rocky  ledge  runs  far  into  the  sea, 

And  on  its  outer  point,  some  miles  away, 
The  light-house  lifts  its  massive  masonry, 
A  pillar  of  fire  by  night,  of  cloud  by  day. 

"Not  one  alone;  from  each  projecting  cape 
And  perilous  reef  along  the  ocean's  verge, 
Starts  into  life  a  dim,  gigantic  shape, 

Holding  its  lantern  o'er  the  restless  surge." 

We  sighted  Sambro  at  about  two  o'clock  in  the 
morning.  It  is  only  six  or  seven  miles  from  this  light 
that  the  Atlantic  went  ashore.  We  had  passed  so 
many  wrecks  since  we  left  Seal  Island  that  we  began 
to  blame  some  one,  we  hardly  knew  whom,  for  not 
properly  guarding  a  coast  which  seems  to  be  the  natu- 
ral hiding-place  of  hurricanes,  and  a  kind  of  trap  for 
unwary  vessels.  It  was  on  Blond  Rock,  S.  \°  east, 
that  the  Staffordshire  struck.  Nearly  all  on  board 
were  lost,  the  number  including  the  captain,  who  went 
down  with  his  vessel.  This  dangerous  spot  ought  to 
be  buoyed  and  beaconed.  The  steamship  St.  George 
struck  there  about  four  years  ago,  and  the  only  vessel 
the  Cunard  line  has  lost  was  lost  on  Seal  Island.  Far- 
ther on  to  the  N.E.  is  Cape  Niger,  where  a  goodly  vessel 


5  2  Starboard  and  Port. 

was  bleaching  her  bones.  It  is  a  dangerous  spot,  not 
so  much  because  of  the  ragged  rocks  which  reach  far 
out  from  shore,  as  because  of  the  sunken  reefs  which  a 
stranger  who  seeks  shelter  from  the  storm  knows  noth- 
ing about  until  -he  is  on  them.  And  so  from  the 
southwestern  extremity  to  Halifax  the  whole  Nova 
Scotia  coast  is  a  series  of  traps,  with  no  sign-boards 
marked  "  Beware." 

We  kept  at  a  respectful  distance  from  Sambro,  and 
entered  the  harbor  of  Halifax  at  four  o'clock,  making 
the  run  from  Portland,  including  four  hours  of  dead 
calm,  in  forty-four  hours.  This  gave  us  an  average  of 
about  eight  and  a  half  knots  per  hour,  which  we  re- 
garded as  very  fine  sailing. 


Bits  of  History,  53 


CHArTER  III. 

BITS     OF    HISTORY. 

"  Any  thing  but  history,  for  history  must  be  false." — Walpoliana. 

'HE  history  of  Nova  Scotia  is  full  of 
adventure  and  romance.  While  in 
Halifax  I  spent  many  a  pleasant 
hour  in  recalling  the  appearance  of 
the  coast  by  which  we  had  hurried  so 
rapidly,  and  in  posting  myself  up  on 
the  antecedents  of  a  people  who  are,  to  say  the  least, 
pleasantly  peculiar.  It  would  be  impossible  to  utter 
any  thing  but  kindness  of  those  who  received  us  in  the 
open  arms  of  a  generous  and  unstinted  hospitality  ; 
and  when  we  left  the  place  it  was  with  pleasant 
memories  and  many  regrets.  As  is  not  unusual  with 
cities,  the  traveler  who  lands  at  the  wharf  in  Hali- 
fax gets  a  very  unfavorable  first  impression.  He 
enters  upon  dirty  streets,  lined  with  gin-shops,  and 
all  sorts  of  nameless  snares  for  the  honor  and  money 
of  visitors.  But  when  he  ascends  the  hill,  the  resi- 
dences are,  many  of  them,  palatial,  and  the  view  is 
superb.  The  bay  lies  at  his  feet,  and  stretches  itself 
for  miles  toward  the  ocean.  In  the  stream  two  men- 
of-war  lie  at  anchor,  while  on  the  top  of  the  hill  are 
barracks  for  two  regiments.     These  facts  account  suf- 


54  Starboard  and  Port. 

ficicntly  for  the  general  feeling  of  demoralization  with 
which  one  is  oppressed.  It  is  impossible  to  station 
any  considerable  detachment  of  an  army  near  a  city 
without  producing  injurious  effects.  Soldiers  inevita- 
bly give  a  color  to  public  opinion,  and  a  general  tofic 
to  society,  which,  with  a  subtlety  all  its  own,  detracts 
from  the  moral  energy  of  the  people. 

I  said  to  a  gentleman  who  had  been  exceedingly 
kind  to  us,  and  who  was  thoughtful  concerning  these 
things,  "  Do  you  not  find  that  these  red-coats  lower 
the  mercury  considerably?" 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  without  hesitation  ;  "  it  is  a  great 
grief  to  many  that  the  home  government  deems  it 
necessary  to  keep  such  a  force  at  this  point." 

"  In  what  way  does  it  affect  you  ?"  I  queried. 

"  Well,"  he  answered,  "  a  soldier's  life  is  at  best  a  life 
of  adventure.  These  gentlemen,  I  mean  the  officers, 
though  they  will  compare  favorably  with  soldiers  the 
world  over,  are  without  the  restraining  influence  of 
home-life.  When  a  crowd  of  men  get  together,  or  live 
together,  I  do  not  care  how  high-toned  they  may  be  to 
start  with,  they  become  more  or  less  reckless.  They 
are  in  an  abnormal  condition ;  for  men  are  not  soldiers 
naturally — they  are  made  soldiers  by  the  stress  of  cir- 
cumstances." 

"  And  they  are  admitted  into  the  best  society  ?" 

"  Of  course,  many  of  them,  if  not  all,  have  the  right 
to  demand  it.  Their  social  position,  not  reckoning 
their  rank  as  our  national  defenders,  makes  us  only  too 
happy  to  open  our  doors  and  hearts  to  them." 

"  Well,  how  then  do  they  hurt  society  ?" 

"  I   can  hardly  answer  definitely,  except  by  saying 


Bits  of  History.  55 

that  here,  as  in  all  garrison  towns,  what  we  call  the 
scarlet  fever  prevails  to  a  large  extent.  Ladies  are 
always  dazzled  by  military  glory,  and  a  red  coat  has 
pretty  much  the  same  effect  on  them  that  it  produces 
on  certain  quadrupeds." 

"  How  is  it  with  the  rank  and  file  ?" 

"  Oh,  they  are  a  decided  detriment.  Two  thousand 
men,  with  nothing  particular  to  do,  and  no  moral  re- 
straints, will  inevitably  injure  any  community." 

"  But  does  not  the  presence  of  these  soldiers  and 
sailors  create  a  traffic  which  is  of  vital  importance  ?" 

"  Not  so  much  as  you  would  suppose.  I  believe 
that,  if  the  home  government  should  see  fit  to  remove 
these  regiments  and  these  men-of-war,  our  trade,  which 
might  suffer  somewhat  as  an  immediate  consequence, 
would  find  new  channels,  and  the  commercial  impor- 
tance of  Halifax  would  be  doubled  in  five  years." 

These  sentiments  express,  so  far  as  I  can  judge,  the 
feelings  of  many  of  the  most  thoughtful  and  patriotic 
people  of  the  city.  War  at  best  is  barbarism,  and  it 
is  impossible  to  come  in  contact  with  it  in  any  shape 
without  injury. 

Halifax  is  curiously  deficient  in  hotel  accommoda- 
tions. We  put  up  at  the  Halifax  Hotel,  which  by  no 
means  answers  to  our  definition  of  what  a  first-class 
hotel  ought  to  be.  The  city  needs  also  a  commodi- 
ous public  hall  for  various  gatherings.  We  attended 
an  entertainment  given  by  a  popular  reader  in  the  best 
hall  in  the  city,  where  were  congregated  the  elite  of  the 
place,  and  were  surprised  to  find  it  dingy  and  poorly 
ventilated.  The  citizens  of  Halifax  are  very  loyal  to 
their  hillside  home,  and  ought  to  see  to  it  that  a  first- 


56  Starboard  and  Port. 

class  hotel  and  a  worthy  public  hall  arc  erected  at  once. 
I  do  not  say  this  with  any  desire  to  find  fault,  but  sim- 
ply in  the  spirit  of  friendly  criticism.  I  give  the  im- 
pression made  upon  me  in  a  city  where  I  received  at 
the  hands  of  many  friends  nothing  but  the  most  open- 
handed  hospitality,  and,  though  I  criticise  as  others 
might  in  turn,  though  more  sharply,  criticise  New 
York,  I  bore  away  with  me  only  the  pleasantest  mem- 
ories, whose  fragrance  will  abide. 

One  of  the  pleasantest  and  most  amusing  experi- 
ences of  our  sojourn  in  Halifax  was  connected  with 
Market-day.  On  Saturday  morning  of  every  week  a 
motley  group,  consisting  of  two  or  three  hundred  vend- 
ers of  all  possible  wares,  take  up  their  position  around 
and  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Province  Building.  Here 
are  to  be  found  the  most  luscious  wild  strawberries,  ly- 
ing in  the  lap  of  huge  leaves ;  fresh  vegetables,  arranged 
in  the  most  tempting  way ;  early  fruit,  apples  and  mel- 
ons, and  all  other  articles  necessary  to  a  well-regulated 
household. 

In  one  corner  sit  a  coterie  of  Acadians,  who  are  said 
to  be  so  honest  that  they  sleep  with  unbolted  doors, 
laboring  under  the  impression  that  the  rest  of  the 
world  is  as  simple  as  themselves.  They  are  modest 
folk,  exceedingly  timid,  even  to  oppressive  bashfulness ; 
coming  to  market  among  the  earliest,  and  skittering 
back  to  their  homes  the  moment  their  wagons  are 
empty  ;  never  lingering  to  gaze  into  shop-windows,  and 
having  little  or  no  faith  in  the  modern  inventions 
which  make  the  farmer's  life  easy.  They  are  deplora- 
bly ignorant,  hardly  a  dozen  of  them  being  able  to 
read  or  write.     They  are  wonderfully  exclusive,  and 


Bits  of  History.  57 

rarely  marry  out  of  their  own  class.  It  is  curious  that 
they  are  able  to  live  within  a  few  miles  of  such  a  place 
as  Halifax  without  imbibing  some  of  the  notions  with 
which  the  nineteenth -century  brain  teems.  They 
avoid  civilization,  however,  as  though  it  were  a  pesti- 
lence, and  come  to  town  only  to  barter  potatoes  and 
turnips  for  flour  and  other  absolute  necessities. 

Here  in  another  corner  is  gathered  a  group  of  In- 
dians. They  are  squalid  to  the  last  degree,  and  make 
a  living  by  charging  large  prices  for  their  wooden- 
ware.  The  old  women  sit  glum  and  silent,  vigorously 
weaving  their  twig  baskets  of  many  colors,  while  the 
more  sprightly  maidens,  with  swarthy  faces  and  hair 
streaming  down  their  backs,  enter  into  a  lively  con- 
versation about  the  merits  of  their  goods.  They  are 
altogether  a  clumsy,  dull-blooded  set,  apparently  in- 
capable of  breathing  the  air  of  a  city. 

Yonder  are  the  Negroes,  than  whom  I  have  never 
seen  either  men  or  women  more  unsightly.  The  In- 
dians exhibit  the  very  perfection  of  neatness  and  thrift 
by  the  side  of  these  helpless  creatures.  Darwin  would 
delight  in  them  as  proofs  positive  of  his  pet  theory. 
They  are  the  missing  link  between  the  quadruped  and 
the  biped.  Filthy  beyond  all  expression,  and  incom- 
parably lazy,  they  seem  to  be  scarcely  human.  They 
come  from  a  settlement  a  few  miles  from  the  other 
side  of  the  bay,  Avhere  they  starve  and  freeze  in  the 
winter,  and  bask  in  the  sun  all  summer.  They  are 
refugees  from  the  slavery  of  the  South,  and  have  cer- 
tainly not  bettered  their  condition  by  taking  up  their 
abode  on  a  foreign  shore. 

I  said  to  a  friend, 

C2 


58  Starboard  and  Port. 

"  Is  there  no  work  for  them  to  do  in  such  a  place  as 
this  ?" 

"  Plenty,"  he  replied,  "  but  they  won't  do  it." 

"  How  do  they  get  on,  then  ?" 

"  They  don't  get  on  at  all.  They  just  live,  and  no 
more.  They  did  not  rise  when  they  escaped  from  the 
plantation,  but  fell  to  a  worse  estate,  and  there  seems 
to  be  no  help  for  them." 

"  But  where  do  they  live,  and  how  ?" 

"  Well,  you  would  scarcely  call  it  living,  if  you  saw 
them  in  their  homes.  They  have  a  few  huts,  patched 
with  mud,  where  they  huddle,  coming  to  town  every 
Saturday  to  get  a  dime  or  two." 

I  noticed  that  they  had  few  vegetables  to  sell.  The 
girls  had  pailfuls  of  lilies,  which  they  disposed  of  for 
a  penny  apiece,  while  the  old  women  concocted  a  kind 
of  root  beer,  which  found  its  way  down  the  CESophagus 
of  the  unwary  once  only,  for  I  think  the  same  person 
never  drank  twice. 

I  could  not  help  thinking,  however,  that  there  is 
scarcely  another  place  on  the  continent  where  two 
classes  of  people,  like  the  Acadians  and  the  Negroes, 
could  live  in  proximity  to,  and  in  contact  with,  the 
busy  life  of  a  great  city,  without  becoming  amalga- 
mated, and  so  far  affected  by  its  spirit  as  to  lose  such 
prominent  peculiarities.  If  they  lived  within  ten  miles 
of  New  York  or  Boston,  they  would  be  trading  jack- 
knives,  swapping  horses,  and  selling  the  real  estate  on 
which  they  had  encamped,  in  less  time  than  it  takes  to 
put  a  girdle  around  the  earth,  which,  according  to  the 
most  liberal  estimate,  is  just  forty  minutes.  The  sweet 
Acadian  damsels  would  preside  over  the  households  of 


Bits  of  History.  59 

thriving  young  men  who  had  invaded  their  caste,  and 
obHterated  all  lines  of  circumvallation,  while  the  Ne- 
groes, taking  shelter  under  the  provisions  of  the  Fif- 
teenth Amendment,  would  send  their  children  to  school 
and  run  for  Congress. 

Nova  Scotia  presents  a  very  varied  and  interesting 
history.  It  was  probably  discovered  by  those  restless 
Cabots,  a  family  consisting  of  a  father  and  three  sans, 
concerning  whom  the  accepted  records  abound  with 
the  most  delightful  uncertainty.  It  is  well  proven, 
however,  that  they  were  daring  sailors,  setting  the 
dangers  of  the  sea  at  naught,  and  adding  not  a  little 
to  those  romantic  adventures  which  are  the  jewels  of 
the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries. 

Neither  the  birthplace  nor  the  grave  of  the  father 
is  known.  He  is  called  a  citizen  of  Venice,  which 
right  he  won  by  a  residence  of  something  like  fifteen 
years.  He  afterward  took  up  his  abode  in  Bristol, 
England,  where  he  lived  for  years  an  uneasy  sort  of 
life,  with  his  wife  and  three  promising  and  stalwart 
boys.  It  was  just  about  this  time  that  public  opinion 
began  to  change  concerning  the  shape  of  the  earth. 
People  had  been  accustomed  to  think  that  they  were 
living  on  a  vast  grassy  plain,  and  firmly  believed  that 
if  any  one  adventured  to  the  edge,  he  would  inevitably 
drop  off  and  fall — somewhere  or  nowhere,  geographers 
finding  it  difficult  to  determine  which. 

This  new  theory  of  sphericity  assumed  a  practical 
shape  at  once.  The  European  trade  with  the  East 
Indies  was  of  vast  importance,  and  it  was  gravely  con- 
cluded by  the  practical  men  of  the  day  that,  since  it 
was  such  a  fearful  distance,  sailing  eastward,  to  the  In- 


6o  Stardoard  and  Port. 

dies,  it  must  necessarily  be  a  shorter  distance  sailing 
westward.  That  little  notion  changed  the  destiny 
of  the  race,  and  gave  to  six  generations  their  char- 
acter. It  was,  therefore,  for  purposes  of  trade  that 
the  first  impulse  was  given  by  the  well-to-do  and 
ambitious  merchants  to  these  discoverers,  who,  within 
a  century  of  the  date  above  mentioned,  made  the 
world  ring  in  praise  of  their  prowess  and  their  con- 
quests. 

Cabot  had  theorized  himself  into  a  state  of  great  ex- 
citement, and  fully  made  up  his  mind  that  a  northwest 
course  would  certainly  bring  him  to  Japan  and  China. 
What  is  now  known  as  the  Sea  of  Sargossa,  a  vast 
tract  of  floating  sea-weed,  a  sort  of  continental  eddy, 
made  it  impossible  to  take  a  straight  cut  across  the 
ocean.  Once  in  these  doldrums,  one  might  lazily  float 
for  weeks  and  make  no  progress.  Columbus  sailed 
south  of  this  region  of  calm,  which  is  nearly  as  vast  in 
extent  as  the  Mediterranean,  and  Cabot  determined  to 
trust  to  luck  on  a  northerly  tack.  The  consequence 
was  that  Columbus  effected  a  landing  down  by  the 
Bahamas,  while  his  rival  came  to  anchor  among  the 
landslides  of  Labrador. 

The  successors  of  Columbus  spent  their  efforts  on 
the  shores  of  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  while  those  of  Cabot 
laid  claim  to  Newfoundland,  Cape  Breton,  Nova  Scotia, 
and  the  territory  lying  as  far  south  and  west  as  Nan- 
tucket. 

On  the  fifth  of  March,  1496,  John  Cabot  succeeded 
in  getting  a  patent  from  the  Seventh  Henry,  authoriz- 
ing him  to  go  where  he  pleased,  steal  Avhatever  he 
might  lay  his  hands  on,  and  keep  what  he  could.    John 


Bits  of  History.  6 1 

started  with  a  single  vessel,  accompanied  by  his  son 
Sebastian,  in  May,  1497,  to  tempt  his  fate.  The  suc- 
cess of  his  expedition  is  told  in  the  following  quaint 
letter  from  Pasquilizo  to  his  brothers  in  Venice,  and  is 
dated  August  23d,  1497 : 

"  The  Venetian,  our  countryman,  who  went  with  a 
ship  from  Bristol  in  quest  of  new  islands,  is  returned, 
and  says  that  seven  hundred  leagues  hence  he  discov- 
ered land,  the  territory  of  the  Grand  Cham.  He  coast- 
ed three  hundred  leagues,  and  landed  ;  saw  no  human 
beings.  He  was  three  months  on  the  voyage,  and  on 
his  return  saw  two  islands  on  his  right  hand,  but  would 
not  land,  time  being  precious,  and  he  was  short  of  pro- 
visions. His  name  is  Juan  Cabot,  and  he  is  styled  the 
Great  Admiral." 

A  year  after  this,  in  July,  1498,  Don  Pedro  de  Azala, 
the  Spanish  embassador  at  the  court  of  Henry  VH., 
undoubtedly  stirred  to  envy  by  the  praise  of  Cabot's 
exploits,  which  rang  through  London,  wrote  to  Ferdi- 
nand and  Isabella  a  letter  which  in  those  hot-blooded 
times  might  easily  have  been  made  a  casus  belli. 

He  said  to  their  august  majesties  : 

"  I  have  seen  the  map  which  the  discoverer  has 
made,  who  is  another  Genoese,  like  Columbus,  and  who 
has  been  in  Seville  and  in  Lisbon  asking  assistance  for 
his  discoveries.  ...  I  have  seen  on  a  chart  the  direc- 
tion which  he  took,  and  the  distance  he  sailed,  and  I 
think  that  what  he  has  found,  or  what  he  is  in  search 
of,  is  what  your  majesties  already  possess." 

Well  spoken  for  an  embassador  who  did  not  pro- 
pose to  have  the  glory  of  his  native  land  dimmed  by 
the  exploits  of  a  rival  explorer. 


62  Starboard  and  Port. 

The  name  of  the  Httlc  craft  in  which  the  Cabots 
sailed  was  the  Mattliciv.  Where  he  sailed  it  is  not 
easy  to  determine ;  but  he  must  have  gone  far  north, 
for,  when  on  the  starboard  tack  on  his  return  trip,  he 
saw  Newfoundland  on  his  right  hand. 

I  do  not  much  believe  that  the  old  gentleman  ever 
landed  on  what  is  called  Nova  Scotia.  His  son  Sebas- 
tian, however,  in  May,  1498,  started  with  two  ships 
from  Bristol,  and  became  so  involved  among  icebergs 
that  he  steered  for  the  south,  and  made  a  harbor  on 
the  mainland.  This  was  undoubtedly  the  picturesque 
peninsula  of  which  we  are  speaking. 

Nova  Scotia  was  first  colonized  by  Des  Monts  and 
some  Frenchmen,  with  a  slight  leaven  of  Jesuits,  in 
1604.  They  called  that  whole  section  of  country 
Acadia.  After  this  date  the  colonists  became  in- 
volved in  endless  quarrels  among  themselves  and  with 
the  English,  who,  under  a  patent  granted  by  James  I., 
claimed  the  territory,  and  called  it  Nova  Scotia,  or 
New  Scotland,  which  quarrels  had  no  cessation  until 
the  Treaty  of  Paris,  February,  1763,  when  France,  tired 
out  by  the  continual  muss,  surrendered  all  claim  to 
the  place. 

Americans  ought  to  be  interested  in  this  whole  sec- 
tion of  country,  because  it  was  once  a  part  of  our  own 
domain,  and  because,  if  coming  events  cast  their  shad- 
ows before,  it  is  very  likely  to  become  so  again. 
When  the  old  charter  of  Massachusetts  was  forfeited, 
and,  under  William  and  Mary,  a  new  one  w^as  obtained, 
the  colony  of  New  Plymouth,  the  province  of  Maine, 
and  Nova  Scotia  were  all  annexed  to  it.  The  only 
reservation  made  by  the  British  government,  I  believe, 


\ 


Bits  of  History.  63 

was  the  right  to  cut  timber  any  where  hi  the  forests 
suitable  for  masts  for  the  Royal  Navy. 

The  topography  of  Nova  Scotia  is  exceedingly 
monotonous.  The  highest  spot  is  Arthur's  Seat,  which 
rises  only  810  feet  above  the  sea,  while  the  average 
height  of  the  hills  is  not  far  from  500  feet.  The  soil 
on  the  southern  coast  is  very  thin  indeed,  and  what  on 
better  land  would  be  called  agriculture,  there  reaches 
only  the  questionable  dignity  of  scratchiculture.  The 
inhabitants  obtain  a  precarious  living,  and,  though  the 
hamlets  and  villages  consisting  of  a  few  hundred  in- 
habitants are  numerous,  there  is  scarcely  a  large-sized 
town,  with  the  exception  of  Halifax,  from  Seal  Island 
Light  to  White  Head.  One  is  saddened  at  sailing  day 
after  day  for  hundreds  of  miles  along  a  coast  which  af- 
fords so  few  means  of  living.  The  people  are  almost 
universally  fishermen,  going  out  in  their  little  boats  a 
distance  of  nine  or  ten  miles  after  cod,  or  setting  their 
seines  for  herring  in  the  harbors,  or  visiting  their  lob- 
ster-pots twice  a  day.  These  are  their  only  sources  of 
revenue.  They  live  in  the  poorest  and  scantiest  way, 
seldom  acquiring  the  traditional  penny  which  is  taken 
from  the  stocking  on  a  rainy  day. 

We  were  hardly  surprised,  when  landing  for  the  pur- 
pose of  discovering  how  they  lived,  to  find  them  ex- 
ceedingly ignorant.  Few  newspapers  ever  reach  those 
secluded  spots,  and  few  churches  are  to  be  seen.  They 
live  from  hand  to  mouth,  and  seem  to  be  content,  not 
with  little,  but  with  what  they  can  get. 

We  were  struck,  however,  by  the  depth  of  water  in 
the  numerous  harbors.  Few  places  on  the  earth  afford 
such  shelter  for  vessels.     Every  few  miles  a  splendid 


64  Starboard  and  Port. 

Ice  invites  the  traveler  who  sees  a  storm  coming. 
And  yet  these  are  rendered  dangerous  of  approach  by 
the  hick  of  buoys  to  indicate  the  presence  of  sub- 
merged rocks  and  reefs.  The  home  government  could 
expend  a  few  thousand  pounds  in  no  better  way  than 
by  erecting  beacons  and  anchoring  buoys  along  this 
dangerous  and  treacherous  coast,  where  unknown  and 
changing  currents  suck  the  unwary  vessel  to  sure  de- 
struction. 

I  wonder  that  our  own  government  has  not  made  a 
move  in  this  direction.  Our  fishing  fleet  is  so  large 
that  the  money  which  is  lost  in  a  single  year  by  that 
daring  and  too  little  appreciated  part  of  our  popula- 
tion which  furnishes  the  world's  Sunday  breakfast- 
table  with  its  delicious  compound  of  cod  and  potato 
would  suffice  to  put  a  warning  hand  on  every  rock 
and  on  the  edge  of  every  channel  along  the  entire 
coast.  The  waters  within  a  few  miles  of  shore  are  a 
regular  highway  along  which  thousands  of  vessels  trav- 
el every  winter.  Between  Halifax  and  the  Gut  of  Canso 
there  are  twenty-four  commodious  harbors,  safe  shelter- 
ing-places  from  the  "harricanes"  which  sometimes  strike 
a  fleet  with  appalling  suddenness ;  and  at  least  ten  out 
of  the  twenty-four  have  a  sufficient  depth  of  water  to 
float  ships  of  the  line.  Hardly  one  of  them  is  proper- 
ly buoyed,  and  the  captain  who  is  driven  by  stress  of 
weather  or  the  loss  of  spars  and  sails  in  a  gale  to  find 
a  lee,  must  do  it  at  the  risk  of  losing  his  craft. 

This  country  could  do  nothing  at  the  present  time 
more  profitable  or  creditable  to  itself,  and  nothing  that 
would  give  it  more  popularity  among  those  who  are 
compelled  to  sail  these  waters  in  December  as  well  as 


Bits  of  History.  65 

July,  than  the  creation  of  a  commission  that  would  ar- 
rive at  some  understanding  with  the  British  govern- 
ment, and  ultimate  in  planting,  at  the  mouth  of  every 
harbor,  a  beacon  on  every  rock  that  dares  show  its 
treacherous  head  above  water,  and  anchoring  buoys 
off  every  sunken  reef  along  the  whole  coast  of  Nova 
Scotia.  I  have  visited  the  fishermen  who  go  from 
Gloucester  and  other  points  to  the  Gulf  of  St.  Law- 
rence, and  have  found  only  dread  of  this  shore.  They 
universally  heave  a  sigh  of  relief  when  they  get  by 
White  Head.  They  are  certainly  a  hardy  and  de- 
serving race,  encountering  untold  dangers  every  year, 
and  have  the  right  to  claim  at  our  hands  all  possible 
exemption  from  peril. 

There  is  hardly  a  branch  of  industry  in  the  world 
that  is  attended  with  such  risk  as  our  fisheries.  When 
you  watch  the  white  sails  of  a  fleet  lying  in  the  har- 
bor, you  get  the  impression  that  life  on  board  such 
weatherly  craft  must  be  very  pleasant,  and  you  almost 
envy  the  favored  fellows  who  have  a  good  berth.  But 
when  they  lie-to  under  try-sails  on  the  Banks,  or  in  a 
heavy  gale  part  their  hawsers,  and  tumble  down  on 
each  other,  the  feeling  of  envy  changes  to  pity.  It  is 
one  thing  to  skim  the  summer  sea,  and  quite  another 
to  brave  the  snowy  blast  with  the  mercury  cuddling 
about  zero  to  keep  warm. 

During  the  last  forty-three  years  Gloucester  alone 
has  lost  fourteen  hundred  and  thirty-seven  men,  and 
two  hundred  and  ninety-six  vessels.  This  makes  the 
fearful  average  of  thirty-four  lives  and  seven  vessels 
yearly.  It  is  impossible  to  run  over  this  long  cata- 
logue of  disasters,  remembering  that  every  winter  adds 


66  Slarboard  and  Port. 

to  it,  without  a  feeling  of  admiration  for  the  rough  but 
hardy  and  heroic  fellows  who  brave  death  every  time 
they  weigh  anchor.  If  it  is  possible  to  encourage 
them  amid  their  perils,  it  should  be  done  ;  and  if  by  the 
expenditure  of  a  comparatively  paltry  sum  wc  can  as- 
sist them  to  successfully  defy  the  storm,  we  ought  not 
to  be  laggard  in  coming  to  their  aid. 

I  have  lately  come  across  a  narrative  in  a  little  book 
called  "  The  Fisherman's  Memorial  and  Record  Book," 
published  in  Gloucester,  which  puts  the  constant  perils 
of  our  brave  sailors  in  such  vivid  light  that  I  repro- 
duce it  without  apology.  It  is  the  recital  of  a  very 
<:ommon  experience,  only  in  too  many  instances  the 
issue  is  fatal.  No  one  can  read  it  without  a  feeling 
of  sympathy  for  those  who  bid  their  wives  and  chil- 
dren farewell  with  a  strange  feeling  that  the  chances 
are  against  their  ever  seeing  them  again. 

"The  winter  of  1862  found  me  out  of  employment,  and  I  determined  to 
gratify  my  long  pent-up  inclination  of  going  to  Georges.  It  was  early  in 
February.  The  weather  had  been  extremely  mild  for  the  season,  and 
there  were  busy  times  at  the  wharves  in  Gloucester. 

"  Upon  going  to  the  fitting-out  store  of  Messrs. ,  I  was  cordially 

received.  They  were  surprised  to  learn  that  I  wanted  to  go  to  Georges, 
and  endeavored  to  dissuade  me  from  my  purpose.  Their  persuasions 
were  of  no  avail,  however  ;  and,  as  they  had  a  vessel  which  would  be  ready 
to  sail  in  a  day  or  two,  they  told  me  I  could  have  a  chance  in  her.  Pro- 
curing the  necessary  additions  to  my  outfit,  I  entered  heartily  into  the 
work  of  getting  our  craft  in  readiness.  The  ice-house  in  the  hold  was 
filled  with  the  crystal  blocks,  the  cable  and  anchors  overhauled,  gurry- 
pens  placed  in  position,  bait  of  fresh  herring  packed  in  the  ice,  provisions 
taken  care  of,  and  the  vessel  put  in  a  taut  and  strong  condition. 

"  On  the  morning  of  February  14th  we  started,  and,  in  a  glorious  run 
of  twenty-four  hours,  sighted  the  fleet  on  the  Banks — nearly  a  hundred 
sail,  riding  at  their  anchors,  half  a  mile,  and,  in  some  instances,  a  mile 
apart.     It  w.as  a  pretty  sight,  and  the  fine,  clear  weather  rendered  it  high- 


Bits  of  Histojy.  67 

ly  enjoyable.  We  could  distinctly  see  the  men  at  the  rail  pulling  in  fish, 
rapidly  as  hands  and  arms  could  move.  Soon  our  position  was  selected, 
the  anchor  was  down,  and  the  crew  were  busy  getting  ready  to  try  their 
luck. 

"  The  cold,  to  one  of  my  constitution,  was  intense,  and  pierced  into  the 
very  marrow  of  my  bones,  although  I  was  thickly  clothed.  But  this  deep- 
sea  fishing  was  so  exciting  that  I  stood  at  the  rail  sometimes  a  full  hour, 
without  changing  my  position,  pulling  in  the  big  cod-fish,  and  occasionally 
a  halibut.  It  was  a  moment  of  supreme  gratification  when  I  hauled  in 
my  first  fish  of  the  latter  species,  and  saw  him  floating  alongside  with  the 
hook  securely  fastened  in  his  mouth.  One  of  the  crew  helped  me  to  gaff 
him  over  the  rail,  and  I  felt  myself  master  of  the  situation.  Our  steward, 
a  Portuguese,  was  a  clever  fellow,  and,  in  honor  of  my  first  halibut,  brought 
me  a  mugful  of  hot  coffee,  and  a  pancake  with  plums  in  it,  called  by  the 
fishermen  a  '  joe-flogger.'  Pulling  in  these  big  fish  from  so  many  fathoms 
down,  against  a  strong  tide,  was  work  I  was  not  accustomed  to,  and  glad 
enough  was  I,  after  partaking  of  a  hearty  supper,  to  turn  into  my  bunk, 
and  be  lulled  to  sleep  by  the  tossing  of  the  billows. 

"  The  crew  were  a  jolly  set,  and  for  several  days  the  weather  was  fine, 
the  fish  abundant,  and  the  fun  immense.  We  had  changed  our  berth 
twice,  each  time  drawing  nearer  to  the  body  of  the  fleet,  and  each  time 
finding  the  fish  more  plentiful.  I  began  to  think  that  the  Georges  fishery, 
after  all,  was  not  so  bad  as  it  had  been  represented,  although  it  used  to 
fret  me  exceedingly  to  see  so  many  of  the  vessels  lying  so  near  together, 
knowing  full  well  that  in  case  of  a  sudden  storm  and  they  dragged  their 
anchors,  or  chafed  off  their  cables  and  went  adrift,  collision  would  be  in- 
evitable. But  there  being  no  apparent  danger,  I  dismissed  the  thought 
in  keeping  busy. 

"  We  now  had  more  than  half  a  fare,  and  the  skipper  remarked,  one 
afternoon,  as  he  lit  his  pipe, 

'"Boys,  if  our  luck  holds  on,  by  another  week  we'll  think  of  putting 
our  craft  on  the  homeward  tack.' 

"  This  was  cheering,  and  we  finished  up  the  day  with  a  good  catch.  At 
sundown  there  was  quite  a  sudden  change  in  the  weather.  The  clouds 
massed,  and  the  rising  wind  made  the  sea  rough.  All  signs  indicated  an 
approaching  storm.  It  was  a  wild-looking  night ;  the  vessels  tossed  up 
and  down  like  cockle-shells.  At  eight  o'clock  the  skipper  began  to  get 
uneasy.  He  kept  looking  up  at  the  sky,  and  then  glancing  along  the  ho- 
rizon.    Ben,  my  chum,  whispered  to  me, 

" '  Depend  on  it,  we're  going  to  have  a  tough  one  out  of  this ;  and  I 


68  Starboard  and  Port. 

shouldn't  wonder  if  you  had  a  chance  to  see  more  o'  Georges  than  you'll 
over  want  to  see  ag'in.  I've  been  with  tiie  old  man  half  a  dozen  years, 
and  when  I  see  him  walkin'  and  lookin'  that  way,  I  make  up  my  mind 
that  som'thin's  goin'  to  happen.' 

"  By  this  time  the  sky  had  grown  inky  black,  the  wind  had  veered  to 
the  northeast,  and  was  increasing  in  violence.  It  began  to  snow — moder- 
ately at  first,  then  more  fiercely  fell  the  white  flakes.  The  skipper  went 
forward  and  examined  the  cable,  then  gave  orders  to  pay  out  some  ten 
fathoms  or  more,  which  was  done.  Our  lights  in  the  rigging  had  been  lit 
since  sundown,  and  all  about  us  were  the  lights  of  the  fleet,  looking  so 
prettily  as  they  danced  up  and  down  with  the  motion  of  the  vessels.  The 
skipper,  upon  being  asked  what  he  thought,  replied : 

" '  We'll  have  a  tough  time  'tween  now  and  morning,  and  the  watch 
must  keep  a  sharp  lookout  for  drifting  vessels.  If  the  rest  of  you  want 
to  take  a  nap,  do  it  now,  as  there  won't  be  much  sleeping  a  couple  of 
hours  from  now.' 

"All  hands  except  the  watch  went  below  at  about  half-past  eight 
o'clock.  I  could  not  remain  there,  but  kept  going  on  deck.  It  was  some- 
thing new  and  terrible  to  me,  and,  as  I  was  well  wrapped,  I  did  not  suffer 
much  from  the  wet  and  cold.  But  I  did  feel  anxious,  and  would  have 
given  all  I  possessed  to  be  safely  at  home.  But  wishing  was  of  no  avail 
— here  I  was,  and  I  must  take  my  chance  with  the  rest.  We  can  die  but 
once,  thought  I,  and  I  began  to  have  serious  thoughts.  Not  that  I  was 
afraid  of  death — no,  that  was  not  the  feeling  ;  but  there  was  one  at  home 
whom  I  wanted  to  see,  and,  holding  her  hand  in  mine,  I  should  have  been 
better  reconciled.  But  perhaps  it  is  as  well  not  to  tell  all  my  thoughts  at 
that  fearful  time.     We  have  singular  fancies  in  hours  of  danger. 

"  It  was  now  about  eleven  o'clock.  The  wind  had  risen  fearfully,  the 
snow  came  down  spitefully,  and  the  sea  rose  higher  than  I  had  ever  sup- 
posed it  possible  for  it  to  rise,  and  was  covered  with  snowy  caps  of  foam. 
The  sensation  of  being  tossed  up  and  down  so  violently,  together  with  the 
darkness  and  the  storm,  were  not  pleasing,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  ev- 
ery plunge  the  vessel  made  would  be  her  last. 

"  As  midnight  drew  near  the  gale  increased  fearfully.  I  had  never  ex- 
perienced any  thing  so  terrific  before,  and  the  stories  which  had  been  told 
on  board  the  mackerel-catcher  now  assumed  a  more  truthful  aspect.  How 
the  winds  shrieked  through  the  cordage,  and  the  waves  leaped,  seemingly 
impatient  to  add  us  to  the  many  victims  which  have  been  swallowed  up 
on  this  treacherous  spot !  My  shipmates  showed  no  signs  of  fear ;  they 
were  all  on  deck,  and  the  skipper  was  keeping  a  sharp  lookout.     Ben  was 


Bits  of  History,  69 

also  on  the  alert,  and  had  placed  a  hatchet  near  the  windlass,  to  be  in 
readiness  should  it  be  deemed  necessary  to  cut  our  cable.  As  he  came 
near  where  I  was  standing,  he  very  coolly  remarked  '  that  if  we  did  not 
break  adrift  ourselves,  or  some  other  vessel  didn't  run  into  us,  he  thought 
we  might  ride  it  out.'  To  me  it  seemed  an  utter  impossibility  for  any 
vessel  to  stand  such  a  gale ;  but  I  said  nothing.  The  great  danger  to  be 
apprehended  was  from  collision,  as  in  case  either  ourselves  or  some  other 
of  the  fleet  lost  their  anchor  or  parted  their  cable,  away  they  would  go 
with  fearful  speed ;  then,  if  they  struck  another  craft,  good-bye  to  both  of 
them — there  was  not  the  slightest  hope  for  either, 

"The  darkness  was  impenetrable,  and  a  more  dismal  night  I  never 
passed.  How  I  longed  for  morning  to  dawn  !  Once  in  a  while  the  storm 
would  lull  for  a  little  time,  then  we  could  see  some  of  the  lights  of  the 
fleet ;  but  this  was  not  often.  We  knew  the  situation  ere  the  storm  came 
on,  but  now  we  must  wait  till  daylight.  The  hours  dragged  heavily  along 
— anxious  hours  they  were.  They  are  indelibly  impressed  on  my  mem- 
ory, and  will  not  be  effaced  until  death  claims  me.  During  the  night  a 
large  vessel  passed  quite  near  us.  We  could  see  her  lights,  also  her  spars 
and  sails,  as  she  sped  swiftly  along  on  the  wings  of  the  storm.  Glad 
enough  were  we  to  have  her  pass  us,  and  I  trembled  at  the  thought  of  our 
fate  had  she  struck  our  little  craft.  When  I  learned  the  terrible  disaster 
of  the  gale,  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  this  vessel  was  the  cause  of  some 
portion  of  it. 

"  At  length  the  east  began  to  lighten  ;  morning  was  coming.  What  a 
relief  it  was  when  the  day  dawned!  Our  danger  was  not  over,  for  the 
gale  still  continued,  but  there  was  a  comfort  which  the  light  brought  that 
did  me  good.  The  fearful  darkness  of  the  night  and  that  terrible  uncer- 
tainty were  relieved,  as  we  could  now  see  our  position  and  better  guard 
against  the  threatening  dangers.  Our  vigilance  was  not  relaxed.  We 
had  something  to  eat,  and  then  kept  up  our  watching,  for  the  storm  still 
continued  its  fury.  Somewhere  about  nine  o'clock  the  skipper  sang  out, 
'  There's  a  vessel  adrift  right  ahead  of  us !  stand  by  with  your  hatchet, 
but  don't  cut  till  you  hear  the  word  !' 

"  Ben  was  there  at  his  post.  He  could  be  trusted  at  such  a  time,  and 
would  await  orders — this  all  on  board  knew  full  well.  All  eyes  were  now 
bent  on  the  drifting  craft.  On  she  came !  It  was  a  fearful  moment  to 
me,  and  it  was  evident  that  the  men — some  of  whom  had  followed  Georges 
fishing  for  ten  seasons — thought  there  was  danger  now,  but  they  were  not 
afraid.  There  they  stood,  determined  to  do  their  best  for  their  lives. 
I  knew  I  should  share  the  same  fate  with  them,  and  there  was  some  con- 


70  Starboard  and  Port. 

solution  even  in  this.  Tlic  drifting  vessel  was  coming  directly  for  us ;  a 
moment  more,  and  the  signal  to  cut  must  be  given  !  With  the  swiftness 
of  a  gull  she  passed  by,  so  near  that  I  could  have  leaped  aboard,  just 
clearing  us,  and  we  were  saved  from  that  danger,  thank  God  !  The  hope- 
less, terror-stricken  faces  of  the  crew  we  saw  but  a  moment,  as  they  went 
on  to  certain  death.  We  watched  the  doomed  craft  as  she  sped  on  her 
course.  She  struck  one  of  the  fleet  a  short  distance  astern,  and  we  saw 
the  waters  close  over  both  vessels  almost  instantly,  for  as  we  gazed  they 
both  disappeared.  Then  we  knew  that  two  vessels  of  the  fleet  would  nev- 
er again  return  to  port. 

"  We  had  little  time  to  think  of  others,  as  we  began  to  drag  our  anchor, 
and  yaw  about  too  much  for  safety.  This  was  dangerous  in  the  extreme, 
for  if  the  anchors  did  not  take  hold  again  wc  must  cut  our  cables,  and, 
once  adrift,  we  knew  our  fate.  Fortunately,  the  anchors  found  holding- 
ground,  and  we  rode  again  in  safety. 

"  All  through  the  day  we  watched.  Twice  was  our  safety  endangered 
by  vessels  adrift,  but  they  went  clear.  We  were  saved !  At  sundown 
the  gale  moderated,  but  we  knew  that  many  a  poor  fellow  who  had  left 
Gloucester  full  of  hope  would  never  more  return  ;  that  many  a  wife  would 
never  again  see  her  husband,  and  mothers  and  brothers  and  sisters  would 
have  cause  to  remember  the  terrible  gale  which  had  swept  so  fearfully 
over  the  Georges. 

"  I  was  on  nettles  all  next  day,  as  I  thought  the  skipper  would  immedi- 
ately start  for  home.  But  judge  of  my  surprise  to  see  the  men  coolly  get 
their  lines  in  readiness  for  fishing,  just  as  though  there  had  been  no  storm, 
no  danger  or  peril  but  a  few  hours  ago.  This  was  indeed  intensely  prac- 
tical. They  smoked  and  talked  of  getting  a  fare  with  so  much  coolness 
that  it  really  seemed  terrible  to  me.  '  Supposing  we  should  catch  another 
gale — what  then  ?'  I  received  for  a  reply  that  '  they  had  come  to  get  a 
trip  of  fish  ;  I,  to  see  how  I  liked  Georges.'  We  fished  through  the  week, 
had  good  luck,  and  it  was  a  happy  moment  when  the  skipper  said, '  Get 
the  anchor ;  we'll  turn  her  nose  homeward.'  Eastern  Point  Light,  when 
first  sighted,  looked  cheering  and  friendly.  As  we  passed  in  by  the  Fort, 
there  was  a  crowd  of  people,  and  as  they  saw  our  vessel's  name  there  was 
rejoicing.  Several  came  on  board,  asking  if  we  had  seen  such  or  such  a 
vessel  since  the  gale.  The  town  was  in  commotion.  Such  anxiety  I  hope 
never  again  to  witness. 

"  When  the  vessel  came  alongside  the  wharf,  I  put  my  luggage  out,  and 
concluded  not  to  repeat  the  experiment  of  making  a  trip  to  Georges  in 
midwinter.    When  I  got  home,  they  told  me  I  had  grown  much  older  in 


Bits  of  History.        '  71 

the  few  weeks  of  my  absence.  What  I  experienced  during  that  night  and 
day  of  storm  was  enough  to  make  any  one,  especially  a  green  hand,  grow 
old.  I  have  no  desire  to  try  it  again.  If  the  reader  wishes  a  similar  ex- 
perience, perhaps  it  would  be  well  for  him  to  take  a  trip,  but  I  advise  all 
such  to  make  their  wills  ere  they  leave  port." 

Barry  Cornwall  has  beautifully  framed  the  facts  in 
these  striking  lines: 

"  A  perilous  life,  and  sad  as  life  may  be. 
Hath  the  lone  fisher  on  the  lonely  sea, 
O'er  the  wide  waters  lab'ring,  far  from  home, 
For  some  bleak  pittance  e'er  compelled  to  roam ; 
Few  hearts  to  cheer  him  through  his  dangerous  life, 
And  none  to  aid  him  in  the  stormy  strife  ; 
Companion  of  the  sea  and  silent  air, 
The  lonely  fisher  thus  must  ever  fare  ; 
Without  the  comfort,  hope — with  scarce  a  friend, 
He  looks  through  life,  and  only  sees — its  end." 


72  Starboard  and  Port. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

AMONG  THE   ROCKS   IN  A  FOG. 

"The  mist  that  like  a  dim  soft  pall  was  lying, 
Mingling  the  gray  sea  with  the  low  gray  sky." 

IIlGGINSON. 
"  Thus,  while  to  right  and  left  destruction  lies. 
Between  the  extremes  the  daring  vessel  flies, 
But  haply  she  escapes  the  dreadful  strand. 
Though  scarce  her  length  in  distance  from  the  land." 

Falconer. 

E  started  from  Halifax  on  Satur- 
day morning  at  about  half-past 
eleven.  There  was  just  a  breath 
of  air,  enough  to  tempt  us  out 
into  deep  water;  but  when  we 
were  to  the  eastward  of  Sambro 
it  left  us  to  drift  with  the  tide.  By  this  time,  however, 
we  had  learned  to  take  matters  very  philosophically, 
and  not  chafe  at  any  fate  which  might  beset  us.  A 
man  who  has  not  become  used  to  the  freaks  of  the 
ocean,  and  who  can  not  take  its  whims  and  caprices 
as  so  many  jokes  to  be  laughed  at,  feels  like  a  chained 
lion  when  he  is  on  the  water  in  a  dead  calm.  It  is  a 
great  shock  to  the  nervous  system  to  know  that  you 
are  within  a  few  miles  of  land,  and  yet  too  far  off  to 
think  of  rowing  the  distance,  and  to  gaze  on  the  spires 


Among  the  Rocks  in  a  Fog,  73 

and  cupolas  of  the  neighboring  city  which  invites  you 
to  pleasures  you  can  not  enjoy. 

If  it  has  ever  been  your  misfortune  to  lie  down  in  a 
very  narrow  berth  in  a  steamboat,  amid  pitchy  and  tan- 
gible darkness,  and  to  allow  your  imagination  to  work 
until  you  felt  as  though  you  were  in  a  coffin,  the  lid  of 
which  was  being  screwed  down  by  invisible  hands,  and 
the  air  of  which  was  being  gradually  exhausted,  you 
can  get  some  faint  idea  of  the  misery  of  being  becalm- 
ed off  soundings,  but  within  sight  of  land,  when  one  is 
in  a  hurry  to  reach  his  destination.  The  days  were 
wearing  away,  and  we  had  already  left  a  couple  of 
weeks  of  vacation  behind  us ;  and  it  did  seem  hard  to 
be  drifting  a  few  miles  up  the  bay  with  the  flood,  and 
then  a  few  miles  out  to  sea  with  the  ebb  tide,  when  we 
wanted  so  much  to  be  chasing  the  deer  in  Newfound- 
land or  catching  salmon  on  the  coast  of  Labrador. 
Still,  it  is  necessary  for  a  yachtsman  to  possess  his  soul 
in  patience,  and  to  take  gratefully  whatever  the  winds 
and  waters  choose  to  give  him.  He  must  be  ready 
and  willing  to  go  when  and  where  he  can,  not  when 
and  where  he  would  like  to. 

Ah  Boo  is  a  fisherman.  How  he  spent  his  dusky 
youth  I  know  not,  but  shrewdly  suspect  that  he  coaxed 
the  finny  tribe  of  his  native  waters  with  the  universal 
pin-hook.  He  poked  his  head  up  above  the  gangway, 
and  with  an  explosive  "  Oh  !  no  wind !  nie  fish  and 
have  chowder  for  dinner,"  made  a  raid  on  the  cockpit 
for  a  line,  which  he  captured  and  carried  triumphantly 
to  the  fore-rigging.  He  handled  the  fresh  clams,  which 
had  been  purchased  for  just  such  an  emergency,  with  a 
tender  care,  as  though  each  one  contained  a  pearl,  and 

D 


74  Starboard  and  Port. 

at  last  selected  two  or  three  overgrown  and  plethoric 
bivalves  as  a  tempting  bait. 

"  Ah  Boo,  you  propose  to  feed  the  fish  well,"  I  said, 
as  the  three  luscious  morsels  dangled  from  his  hook  in 
delightful  confusion. 

*'  Yes,  yes,"  he  replied,  "  me  feed  'em  well,  then  they 
feed  us  well ;"  and  with  that  he  threw  the  three-pound 
sinker  with  a  deft  cunning  which  proved  that  he  was 
no  apprentice. 

The  line  ran  out  ten,  twenty  fathoms,  when  I  said, 
"  Why,  steward,  there's  no  bottom." 

"  Oh  yes,  me  find  bottom  soon,"  replied  the  cheery 
fellow  as  he  patiently  uncoiled  more  line,  and  was  re- 
warded by  feeling  the  lead  touch  the  sand  below.  He 
took  his  seat  on  the  rail,  and  with  his  right  hand  drew 
the  line  up  a  foot  or  two,  then  let  it  fall  back  again, 
after  the  most  approved  fashion. 

"  Now  come  on,  fish,  and  bite  my  hook.  I  want 
you  ;  I  want  chowder ;  come  on,"  he  said,  as  though 
holding  converse  with  the  inhabitants  below.  Just 
then  came  a  twitch.  He  was  on  his  feet  in  an  instant, 
and  hauling  in  the  line  hand  over  hand.  When  he 
had  recovered  about  half  of  it,  he  stopped  to  catch 
breath  and  assure  himself  that  the  fish  was  on,  when, 
with  a  very  expressive  "  Oh,  he  gone ;  he  no  bite 
good,"  he  dropped  the  line  down  again,  and  waited 
patiently  for  number  two. 

In  a  few  minutes  I  heard  him  again  conversing  with 
an  invisible  somebody,  and  tugging  away  at  his  line,  as 
though  there  were  a  whale  at  the  end  of  it. 

"  Me  got  him  this  time  ;  big  fellow,  too."  And  then 
a,ddressing  his  remarks  to  the   fish,  "  Only  little  way 


Among  the  Rocks  in  a  Fog.  75 

more,  Mr.  Cod ;  keep  hold  good,  and  I  have  you  safe 
on  deck." 

With  that  he  pulled  very  steadily,  and  soon  landed 
a  fine  haddock,  weighing  about  ten  pounds. 

"  I  got  you  now,  ole  feller,"  he  said,  as  he  took  him 
by  the  gills  and  hauled  the  hook  out.  "  Look,  Mr. 
Hepper;  big  fish,  big  chowder,"  and  he  chuckled. 

He  hurried  below  for  his  knife,  and  began  his  work 
by  remarking,  "  No  let  fish  die — kill  him  ;  more  quicker 
kill  him,  more  better  eat,"  and  with  that  he  gave  the 
fish  a  blow  on  the  head  which  would  have  stunned  a 
bullock. 

"  Now,  then,"  said  the  captain,  coming  upon  the 
scene  of  action,  "  I'll  make  a  chowder  myself.  You 
can  beat  me  all  holler  in  preaching,  Mr.  Hepworth, 
but  I  don't  give  in  to  any  one  in  making  chowder. 
Steward,  give  me  that  knife." 

Ah  Boo  is  accustomed  to  obey,  and  so  reluctantly 
gave  the  knife  to  the  captain,  and  sought  his  retreat 
below,  saying  to  himself,  "  Me  make  good  chowder  too. 
Me  no  sail  vessel,  but  me  make  chowder  more  better'n 
cappen." 

The  captain  handled  that  haddock  in  the  most  mas- 
terly and  yet  in  the  tenderest  way.  With  a  cut  just 
forward  of  the  pectoral  fins,  he  got  at  the  root  of  the 
gills,  which  he  removed  as  skillfully  as  a  first-class  sur- 
geon would  perform  a  brilliant  operation.  He  then 
turned  the  fish  over  on  his  side,  and  made  a  slit  down 
the  back  on  either  side  of  the  dorsal  fins,  which  seemed 
to  come  out  of  their  own  accord.  He  performed  the 
same  operation  on  the  anal  fins,  and  then,  cutting  the 
haddock  open,  removed  the  entire  spinal  column.     He 


76  Starboard  and  Port. 

handled  the  head  also  in  a  way  not  easily  described, 
but  which  resulted  in  the  removal  of  about  half,  while 
the  other  half  was  strung  on  the  body  like  a  huge 
bead,  and  the  work  was  done. 

"  There,"  said  he ;  "  I  want  some  pork,  some  hard 
bread,  and  some  toast,  and  I'll  show  you  a  dish  fit  for 
a  king." 

Let  me  skip  over  the  rest  of  the  morning,  for  I  am 
so  interested  in  the  chowder  that  I  would  fain  linger 
in  the  vicinity  of  the  cook-room  until  the  grand  finale. 
The  fragrance  of  that  most  mysterious  and  most  deli- 
cious combination  hovers  about  my  memory  still,  and 
no  one  was  backward  when,  at  one  o'clock,  Ah  Boo 
called  out, 

"  Dinner  ready,  sir." 

"  Now,  then,  captain,  you  are  on  trial,"  cried  Bertric, 
as  he  received  what  would  have  sufficed  for  most  men, 
but  what  proved  to  be  only  the  introduction  to  a 
hearty  dinner. 

"  All  right,"  he  replied,  with  a  chuckle,  as  though  he 
were  sure  of  the  victory. 

We  tasted,  and  with  loud  acclamations  cheered  the 
captain.  The  innumerable  ingredients  had  been  mixed 
with  such  cunning  that  nothing  was  wanting,  except 
perhaps  more  chowder. 

The  calm  hung  on  with  a  grip  like  that  with  which 
Fowler  held  to  the  rope,  all  that  afternoon  and  during 
the  entire  night.  We  spent  the  time  until  ten  o'clock 
in  the  discussion  of  subjects  grave  and  gay,  in  looking 
over  the  slender  stock  of  literature  which  our  yacht 
library  contained,  and  in  games  of  draughts,  and  then 
went  to  bed. 


Among  the  Rocks  in  a  Fog,  77 

I  may  say  just  here  that  bur  enthusiasm  concerning 
taking  our  trick  at  the  wheel  and  our  watch  at  night 
gradually  faded  until  it  was  lost  to  sight,  though  it  re- 
mained to  memory  dear.  We  felt,  you  know,  that  it 
might  destroy  the  discipline  necessary  on  a  cruise  of 
that  kind  to  interfere  with  any  of  the  duties  of  the 
crew.  Besides,  we  noticed  that  the  captain  made  up 
his  slate  without  any  reference  whatever  to  us,  setting 
his  regular  watches  from  the  forecastle,  and  then  came 
to  ask  how  we  proposed  to  pass  the  night.  We  felt 
the  slight,  because  of  the  implied  want  of  confidence  in 
our  ability,  which  was  perhaps  justified  by  the  fact  that 
every  one  of  us  had  been  found  more  than  once  fast 
asleep  at  his  post.  One  evening  the  captain  came  on 
his  customary  errand,  and  said, 

"  Mr.  Hepworth,  where  will  you  watch  to-night?" 

I  replied, "  Well,  Cap,  if  it  makes  no  difference  to  you, 
I  will  take  my  watch  in  my  state-room,  from  ten  o'clock 
until  about  six  in  the  morning." 

The  captain  saw  that  the  knotty  problem  was  solved 
at  last,  and  chuckled  as  though  he  had  anticipated  just 
that  result.  However,  he  put  a  grave  face  on  the  mat- 
ter, and  turning  to  Ruloff,  said, 

"  Mr.  Ruloff,  which  is  your  watch  ?" 

Ruloff  replied,  with  great  dignity,  as  though  the  fate 
of  the  voyage  was  to  be  decided  by  his  action, 

"Cap,  after  due  deliberation,  I  have  concluded  to 
take  a  sort  of  dog-watch  from  four  to  six  in  the  aft- 
ernoon." 

"And  you,  gentlemen?"  he  continued,  turning  to 
Bertric  and  Stigand. 

"  Well,"  said  Bertric,  looking  at  a  huge  English  ter- 


78  Starboard  and  Port. 

rier  we  had  with  us,  "  if  Ruloff  takes  the  dog-watch, 
Stigand  and  I  will  watch  the  dog." 

But  Algar  still  clung  to  his  duty.  He  really  liked 
to  sit  up  at  night  and  look  out  for  light-houses,  and  be 
ready  in  case  of  a  tack  or  a  change  of  wind,  or  any 
other  emergency. 

And  so  ended,  most  ignominiously,  our  experiment 
of  the  Corinthian  method  of  yachting.  It  is  very  de- 
lightful in  theory  to  take  control  of  your  own  vessel, 
and  to  become  part  and  parcel  of  the  work  done ;  but 
in  practice  it  is  not  pleasant  to  be  shaken  out  of  a 
warm  sleep  on  a  rainy  midnight,  with  a  gruff  "  Come, 
come,  our  watch  is  up." 

You  ask  the  intruder,  "  How  is  the  weather,  John  ?" 

*'  Raining  hard,  sir." 

"And  the  wind?" 

"  Nor'-east,  and  blowing  a  gale." 

You  reluctantly  rub  your  eyes,  then  crawl  into  your 
clothes,  pull  on  your  rubber  boots,  get  into  your  rubber 
coat  and  hat,  and  grope  your  way  on  deck,  to  find  it  dark 
as  the  inside  of  a  tar-barrel,  while  the  vessel  is  pitching 
and  rolling  at  a  fearful  rate.  The  Corinthian  method 
is  very  good  in  a  harbor,  and  it  is  not  exactly  irksome 
if  it  consists  in  giving  orders  to  your  sailing-master  to 
go  from  one  port  to  another,  and  to  govern  himself  ac- 
cordingly, after  which  piece  of  advice  you  retire  to  the 
passenger  list,  and  take  life  easily.  I  confess  to  a  con- 
stitutional make-up  which  renders  it  impossible  for  me 
to  thoroughly  enjoy  taking  my  share  of  the  detailed 
drudgery  of  sailing.  I  like  to  sleep  when  ten  o'clock 
comes,  though  I  am  not  greatly  averse  to  taking  my 
watch  from  nine  to  twelve ;  but  deliver  me  from  stand- 


Among  the  Rocks  tji  a  Fog.  79 

ing  at  the  cat-head  on  a  drizzly  night  from  twelve  to 
four.  I  really  do  not  like  it.  Up  to  midnight,  time 
seems  to  wag  along  at  a  reasonable  rate ;  but  after 
that  it  seems  as  though  the  old  fellow,  with  a  feeling 
that  most  every  body  was  asleep,  and  would  not  dis- 
cover his  lapse,  lay  down  once  in  a  while  and  took  a 
nap  himself. 

Late  on  Sunday  morning  a  gentle  breeze  broke  the 
monotony  of  our  life,  and  we  found  ourselves  gliding 
along  at  about  six  knots  an  hour.     The  afternoon  was 

lovely — 

"  So  calm,  so  cool,  so  bright, 
Bridal  of  earth  and  sky ;" 

and  the  scene  around  us  was  well  fitted  to  excite  a 
thoughtful  soul  to  worship.  It  required  no  great 
stretch  of  the  imagination  to  make  us  feel  that  we 
were  in  a  vast  temple,  in  which  no  uttered  sermon 
was  necessary,  since  the  whole  scene  preached  to  us 
with  an  eloquence  not  to  be  equaled  by  the  most  per- 
suasive periods.  The  roof  of  this  vast  temple  was  the 
arched  sky,  with  its  background  of  unutterably  deep 
blue.  It  was  frescoed  by  the  ever -changing  clouds, 
with  their  neutral  tints.  The  hills  on  shore,  and  the 
lofty  and  rugged  mountains  in  the  dim  distance,  seemed 
like  giant  pillars,  while  for  music  we  listened  to  the 
rippling  waters  as  our  sharp  bow  cut  through  them. 
We  sat  together  on  the  forward  deck,  watching  the 
land  as  it  sped  by  us  like  the  unfolding  of  a  panorama, 
and  sang  hymns  in  which  the  sailors  joined — for  we 
had  a  very  remarkable  crew  —  and  then  bowed  our- 
selves in  prayer  to  Him  who  holdeth  the  waters  in  the 
hollow  of  his  hand.     There  is  a  Sunday  on  the  sea  as 


8o  Starboard  and  Port. 

well  as  on  the  land,  a  kind  of  unwonted  calm,  which 
disposes  to  thoughtfulncss. 

Only  one  thing  tempted  us.  The  birds — loons,  ducks, 
and  gulls — seemed  to  be  aware  of  the  character  of  those 
on  board,  and  with  a  defiant  kind  of  persistency  settled 
within  easy  range.  It  was  almost  too  much  for  Fletch. 
He  saw  half  a  dozen  sea-pigeons  on  the  larboard  bow, 
and  felt  constrained  to  put  his  hands  in  his  pockets 
and  clinch  his  fists,  lest  he  might  be  tempted  to  shoot. 
"  Oh,  if  it  were  only  Monday  morning !"  he  exclaimed, 
as  a  flock  lit  on  the  water  close  to  us,  "  wouldn't  I 
make  you  suffer,  though  !"  And  once  the  opportunity 
was  more  than  he  could  bear.  He  rushed  into  the 
cabin,  got  his  double-barreled  gun,  and  was  about  to 
draw  a  fatal  bead,  when  he  checked  himself,  evidently 
with  a  mighty  effort,  and  carried  his  weapon  back, 
muttering,  "  No,  I  won't  shoot  to-day;  but  if  you  show 
your  heads  to-morrow,  woe  be  unto  you — that's  all  I 
say." 

On  Monday  came  an  experience  which  all  on  board 
will  remember.  We  suffered  a  very  narrow  escape, 
and  withal  came  so  near  to  a  disastrous  end  of  our 
trip  that  we  shall  never  cease  to  be  thankful.  It  hap- 
pened in  this  wise. 

At  about  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  I  was  roused 
from  a  deep  sleep  by  the  sharp  cry — 

"  Let  her  come  about!" 

In  an  instant  I  was  out  of  bed,  and  my  clothes,  as 
though  they  appreciated  the  situation,  seemed  to  put 
themselves  on  me.  I  do  not  believe  I  was  more  than 
two  minutes  dressing.  I  groped  my  way  through 
the   cabin,  and   was   soon    on   deck.     The   dull   gray 


Among  the  Rocks  in  a  Fog.  8i 

streaks  of  morning  were  tingeing  the  eastern  horizon, 
and  we  could  see  perhaps  a  quarter  of  a  mile  ahead. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Captain  ?"  I  said,  as  I  saw 
Comstock,  who  was  evidently  in  an  unusual  mood. 

"  Rocks  ahead,  sir,"  he  replied,  somewhat  sharply. 

I  went  forward,  and  saw,  about  one  hundred  yards 
off,  a  reef  of  hungry-looking  rocks,  toward  which  we 
had  been  directly  heading,  and  on  which  we  should 
have  inevitably  run  had  it  been  an  hour  earlier.  The 
yacht  lay  too,  her  sails  shivering  in  the  wind,  while  we 
took  in  the  situation,  and  made  up  our  minds  what  it 
was  best  to  do. 

"  How  came  we  here  ?"  I  asked  the  pilot,  who  at 
that  moment  appeared  on  deck  with  the  most  dis- 
orderly toilet,  one  shoe  off,  and  only  one  arm  in  the 
sleeve  of  his  pea-jacket. 

"  Why,  we  kept  close  inshore  all  day  yesterday, 
and,  though  I  shot  her  out  into  open  water  at  night, 
the  current  has  sucked  us  right  back  again  among  the 
rocks — that's  what's  the  trouble.  The  truth  is,  this  is 
a  nasty  coast ;  there  ought  to  be  no  night  here  at  all, 
for  it's  not  easy  getting  clear  of  these  reefs  even  in  the 
daytime." 

"  Well,  Cap,  what  shall  we  do  ?" 

"  The  pilot  must  decide  that  question,"  he  replied. 
*'  These  are  not  Christian  waters,  and  I  don't  know 
any  thing  about  them.  If  I  were  only  in  a  civilized 
place,  now,  I'd  know  where  I  was,  but  when  a  man 
gets  down  here,  he  gets  beyond  the  reach  of  the  Chris- 
tian religion." 

Just  then  the  pilot,  Edwards,  came  up  to  me,  and 
said, 

D  2 


82  Starboard  and  Port. 

"  What  shall  wc  do,  Mr.  Hcpworth — go  on,  or  run  in  ? 
Country  Harbor  lies  just  to  the  norrard,  and  wc  can 
make  a  Ice  in  the  course  of  an  hour  or  so.  Just  look 
there." 

I  turned  in  the  direction  indicated,  and  saw  to  the 
southwest  a  huge  bank  of  fog,  which  was  coming 
toward  us  rapidly,  and  in  a  little  while  would  prob- 
ably shut  us  in  completely.  We  were  hedged  in  by 
reefs,  some  just  above  water,  and  others  just  below, 
their  positions  indicated  only  by  the  white-caps  above 
them,     I  said  to  Edwards, 

"  Well,  we  want  to  get  on  as  fast  as  possible.  Even 
if  the  fog  comes  in,  we  are  safe  enough  if  we  get  eight 
or  ten  miles  out ;  and  it  ought  not  to  be  difficult  to  lay 
our  course  for  the  little  Gut  of  Canso." 

"  All  right,  sir,"  he  replied,  and  the  Nettie  was  head- 
ed for  open  water.  We  bowled  along  for  a  while,  when 
it  was  suggested  by  some  one  that  it  would  only  take 
us  five  or  six  hours  to  get  to  Whitehead,  while  the  fog 
might  last  for  three  days ;  that  when  opposite  White- 
head we  should  have  to  feel  our  way  in,  as  we  could 
not  keep  on  our  course  ;  that  we  wanted  to  get  into 
the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence  as  soon  as  possible,  and  there 
was  no  use  in  running  a  hundred  miles  to  the  eastward 
of  it.  The  prospect  of  spending  three  or  four  days  in 
the  fog  outside  of  the  Roaring  Bull  was  not  very  in- 
spiring, and  so  I  countermanded  my  order,  and  the 
yacht  was  put  about.  The  man  at  the  wheel  had  no 
sooner  got  his  helm  hard  down  than  the  fog  came 
driving  in  like  magic,  and  Edwards  had  just  time  to 
note  the  positions  of  the  several  rocks  at  the  mouth 
of  Country  Harbor  before  all  about  us  was  thick,  im- 


Among  the  Rocks  in  a  Fog.  83 

penetrable  darkness.  I  have  been  in  fog  many  a 
time,  but  in  none  like  that.  It  was  impossible  to  see 
the  length  of  the  vessel.  The  moisture  gathered  and 
stood  on  our  pea-jackets  in  large  drops,  keeping  my 
eye-glasses  so  moist  that  I  was  compelled  to  take 
them  off,  which  was  well-nigh  equivalent  to  being 
bhnd. 

There  was  a  heavy  swell  on,  but  the  wind  was  not 
too  strong.  Edwards  had  caught  sight  of  the  two 
principal  reefs  about  half  a  mile  ahead,  and  it  was  a 
great  relief  to  us  all  when  after  sailing  for  fifteen  min- 
utes we  felt  sure  that  we  had  passed  them.  Every 
man  was  on  the  forward  deck  except  Fowler,  who 
had  the  wheel. 

By  and  by  the  swell  ceased,  and  we  were  in  still 
water.  We  knew  by  that  that  we  had  passed  to  the 
northward  of  the  headland,  and  were  somewhere  in- 
side the  harbor. 

"  John,  heave  the  lead,"  said  the  captain. 

Little  John,  as  we  called  him,  stood  at  the  main- 
rigging,  line  in  hand,  while  Big  John  took  the  end 
of  the  line  with  the  lead  attached  forward,  and,  giving 
it  a  swing,  hurled  it  twenty  feet  ahead. 

"  Fifteen  fathom,  and  no  bottom  !"  was  the  first  cry. 

"  Good !  Safe  so  long  as  we  are  in  that  depth  of 
water,  unless  the  rocks  bring  us  up." 

"  There  ain't  no  rocks  here,"  said  Edwards.  "  We 
can't  run  into  any  thing  except  the  beach.  I  want  to 
get  over  on  the  other  side,  if  possible,  because  there's 
good  holding-ground  there.  We  must  be  mighty  near 
the  norrard  shore." 

"  Ten  fathoms  !"  shouted  John. 


84  Starboard  and  Port. 

"  Now,  then,  look  out  ahead  there,  and  see  if  you  can 
find  land.  One  of  you  fellows  crawl  out  on  the  jib- 
boom,  and  keep  your  eyes  peeled." 

"  Eight  fathoms,  shoaling  !" 

"  That's  so,  and  shoaling  altogether  too  fast." 

"  Breakers  right  ahead !"  cried  the  man  on  the  jib- 
boom,  and  at  that  moment  John  yelled — 

"  Four  fathom  !" 

"  Down  with  your  helm,"  shouted  the  captain,  and 
the  Nettie,  not  lost  yet,  spun  round  as  on  a  pivot. 

Now,  then,  for  the  other  tack.  We  were  certainly  in- 
side the  harbor,  the  water  was  so  smooth,  and  it  ought 
not  to  be  very  difficult  to  make  the  farther  shore, 
where  we  could  drop  anchor  in  safety. 

"  Seven  fathom  !" 

The  water  was  deepening,  and  we  felt  relieved. 
Even  the  dog  seemed  to  be  conscious  of  a  sense  of 
security,  for  he  wagged  his  tail  at  John  when  he  an- 
nounced the  depth  of  water. 

"  Ten  fathom !" 

"  Twelve  fathom,  and  no  bottom  !" 

"  Now,  then,  we  must  grope  our  way  in  this  thick 
darkness  to  the  other  side." 

We  sailed  on  for  a  while,  when  the  order  was  given 
to  slow  her  as  much  as  possible.  Fowler  brought 
her  up  close  to  the  wind,  so  that  her  sails  began  to 
flutter,  and  we  forged  ahead  at  a  very  modest  rate. 

"  Heave  the  lead  again  !"  ordered  the  captain. 

"  Nine  fathom  !"  was  the  first  piece  of  news. 

"  Look  out  sharp,  out  there  on  the  jib-boom  !" 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir!"  came  back  the  reply. 

"  Eight  fathom !" 


Among  the  Rocks  in  a  Fog.  85 

Shoaling  again.  We  were  all  huddled  together  near 
the  fore-rigging — one  with  a  single  boot  on,  another 
without  hat,  another  in  his  shirt  sleeves — peering  into 
the  fog  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  land. 

"  Seven  fathom  !" 

"  Edwards,  there's  an  iceberg  right  ahead  of  us,"  I 
said  to  the  pilot. 

"  No,  it  isn't,"  answered  Ruloff,  "  it's  a  three -story- 
house." 

Whatever  it  was,  it  was  close  to  us. 

*'  Hard  alee !"  yelled  the  captain  ;  "  here's  the  land 
right  aboard  of  us." 

*'  Down  with  the  anchor !" 

The  Nettie  shook  her  canvas  in  the  wind  again,  the 
chain  rattled  through  the  hawse-holes,  and  in  a  minute 
more  we  were  riding  safely  at  anchor. 

I  noticed  one  peculiarity  in  every  gentleman  on 
board,  which  showed  itself  immediately  after  the 
anchor  dropped. 

Bertric  went  up  to  Stigand,  and  said  confidentially — 
"  Do  you  know,  Stigand,  I  think  Hepworth  was  afraid. 
Now  I  was  a  good  deal  excited,  but  I  never  felt  freer 
from  fear  in  my  life,  myself." 

And  Stigand  went  up  to  Ruloff,  and  in  the  same 
confidential  whisper  repeated  the  sentence  concerning 
Algar,  almost  word  for  word. 

And  Ruloff  repeated  it  to  Algar  concerning  Bertric, 
and  so  on,  until  each  had  defended  his  own  prowess 
in  solemn  whisper  to  every  member  of  the  com- 
pany. 

The  truth  is  we  were  all  scared  nearly  out  of  our 
wits.     No  man  who  has  the  common  North  American 


86  Starboard  and  Port. 

nervous  organization,  can  go  through  such  an  experi- 
ence as  that  without  feeling  very  decidedly  frightened. 
For  myself,  I  am  willing  to  confess  here,  though  I  did 
not  do  it  at  the  time,  that  for  an  hour  and  a  half  I  was 
listening  to  hear  the  deep  "  thud"  of  the  Nettie  on  the 
rocks.  I  fully  expected  to  lose  the  boat,  and  would 
have  willingly  compromised  with  Fate  for  the  safety  of 
the  party. 

I  said  to  Edwards, 

"  Come,  weren't  you  scared  ?" 

He  looked  at  me  in  a  blank  sort  of  way,  and  re- 
plied, 

"  Skeered  ?  No ;  but  I  was  afraid  we  might  tetch 
something  comin'  in." 

"  That's  what  I  was  afraid  of,  and  that's  what  I  call 
being  scared,"  I  thought  to  myself,  as  I  went  aft. 

In  about  an  hour  the  fog  lifted,  and  we  saw  what 
might  have  happened.  What  I  thought  an  iceberg 
proved  to  be  a  huge  boulder  about  fifteen  or  twenty 
feet  square,  which  the  fog  had  magnified.  It  was  in 
just  the  position  to  save  us.  But  for  it  we  should 
have  gone  plump  on  the  beach.  As  it  was,  we  were 
so  near  that  you  could  almost  lower  yourself  from  the 
end  of  the  jibboom  to  the  land.  It  was  on  the  whole 
about  as  narrow  an  escape  as  I  care  to  experience,  and 
I  regard  it  as  one  of  those  episodes  which  are  well 
enough  to  look  back  upon,  but  which  it  is  by  no  means 
agreeable  to  pass  through. 


Trout  and  Mosquitoes.  87 


CHAPTER  V. 

TROUT  AND   MOSQUITOES. 

"Among  the  plagues  on  earth  which  God  has  sent, 
Of  lighter  torment,  is  the  plague  of  flies. 
Where  wild  America  in  vastness  lies, 
There  diverse  hordes  the  swamps  and  woods  infest ; 
Banded  or  singly,  there  make  man  their  prize." 

Bishop  of  Quebec. 

EFORE  we  started  from  Halifax 
'  we  engaged  the  services  of  a 
i^^  regular  hunter.  He  was  a  char- 
^  acter  worthy  of  study.  He  was 
already  something  over  sixty 
years  of  age,  and  as  hale  and 
hearty  as  possible.  He  told  me  the  story  of  his  life 
one  evening  as  we  were  sitting  together;  but  I  after- 
ward found  him  to  be  such  an  egregious  manufacturer 
of  facts  that  my  former  admiration  somewhat  sub- 
sided. He  brought  all  his  tents  and  camp  utensils  on 
board,  and  promised  us  rare  fishing  and  hunting  when 
we  reached  the  woods — promises,  however,  which  were 
by  no  means  fulfilled. 

We  found  Country  Harbor  such  a  delightful  place 
that  we  determined  to  remain  in  that  region  for  a  few 
days,  and  find  out  what  sport  was  to  be  had.  Its 
northern  branch,  a  creek  three  miles  long,  is  called 
Isaac's   Harbor,  and   as  this  afforded   a   splendid   lee 


88  Siarboard  and  Port. 

against  almost  any  wind,  wc  brought  the  Nettie  to  an- 
chor in  five  fathoms,  just  off  the  Httle  village  on  its 
western  shore. 

Being  in  immediate  want  of  provisions,  I  started  out 
on  a  foraging  expedition,  and  soon  came  across  a  fisher- 
man who  had  just  harvested  from  his  pots  a  load  of 
lobsters. 

'  "  Halloo,  friend,"  I  hailed,  "  will  you  let  me  have 
some  of  your  freight?"  He  rowed  alongside,  and  I 
picked  out  a  dozen  fine  green  fellows,  who  had  just 
come  out  of  the  water,  and  had  not  yet  got  over  their 
surprise  at  the  new  condition  of  things. 

"  How  much  apiece  ?" 

"  Well,  I  reckon  that  generally  they  are  w^orth  about 
a  penny  apiece,  but  them  dozen  you  can  have  for  ten 
cents." 

I  paid  him  the  silver,  and  then  his  conscience  seemed 
to  smite  him  for  charging  me  an  exorbitant  price,  for 
he  immediately  picked  out  an  immense  lobster  and 
added  it  to  the  twelve  that  were  kicking  and  tearing 
each  other  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat. 

This  is  certainly  a  paradise  of  cheap  provisions,  I 
thought,  as  we  rowed  to  land.  However,  it  is  a  state 
of  things  that  never  lasts  long,  and  the  habit  of  over- 
charging is  easily  acquired. 

We  heard  some  geese  quack,  and  at  once  went  in 
search  of  the  owner.  She  was  discovered  in  a  very 
neat  but  small  house,  to  which  was  attached  a  hen- 
coop of  gigantic  proportions. 

"  Will  you  do  me  the  honor  to  sell  me  some  fat  gos- 
lings?" I  inquired. 

"  Well,"  she  answered,  "  I  don't  generally  sell  noth- 


Trout  and  Mosquitoes.  89 

ing  till  Christmas,  but  there  ain't  no  law  agin  it,  I 
guess." 

"Good!  If  you  will  drive  the  flock  up,  I'll  take  my 
pick." 

"  Here,  Matildy,  drive  them  geese  up  here.  Hurry 
up,  now,  and  don't  stop  listenin'  to  their  squawks !" 

Matildy,  a  fine  specimen  of  physical  femininity,  stop- 
ped for  a  moment  to  take  a  look  at  us,  and  then  start- 
ed for  the  shore,  where  the  geese  found  plenty  to  eat. 
When  the  flock  was  penned,  I  picked  out  a  goodly 
number,  which  were  immediately  caught,  and  most 
mercilessly  deprived  of  their  heads. 

"  Now,  then,  I  want  some  chickens.  Can  I  have 
them  ?" 

"  Would  you  as  lief  have  hens?" 

"  No,  madam,  I  have  a  great  preference  for  youth. 
Old  age  is  respectable,  and  should  always  be  regarded 
with  reverence,  but  in  a  hen  it  is  not  a  popular  attri- 
bute." 

"  Matildy,  git  some  chickens." 

And  such  a  skittering  was  never  seen.  The  screech- 
ing bipeds  rushed  hither  and  yon,  while  Matildy,  who 
enjoyed  the  sport,  lifted  her  garments  to  her  knees 
with  one  hand,  and,  rushing  into  their  midst,  caught 
them  with  the  other. 

It  was  a  very  funny  picture.  The  hens,  aware  of 
their  fate,  huddled  together  in  one  corner  of  the  big 
coop,  clucking  to  keep  their  spirits  up,  and  hustling 
each  other  to  get  nearest  the  fence.  Matildy,  her 
black  unkempt  hair  streaming  down  her  shoulders,  her 
coal-black  eyes  blazing  with  enjoyable  excitement, 
crept  stealthily  up,  her  eye   fixed  upon  the  one  she 


90  Starboard  and  Port. 

wanted,  and  then,  at  the  right  moment,  made  a  most 
masterly  dash,  while  the  songsters  flew  and  rushed  at 
every  possible  angle  with  loud  cries  of  fear,  and  man- 
aged every  time  to  clutch  the  right  one  by  head,  or 
tail,  or  legs.  She  quietly  passed  it  to  the  old  lady, 
then  drove  the  hens  into  another  corner  only  to  repeat 
the  successful  manoeuvre. 

At  last  I  cried,  "  Hold,  enough !"  and  by  that  time 
there  was  quite  a  pile  of  headless  bipeds,  who  were  to 
be  promoted  from  common  chickens  to  chicken-pie. 

"  Now  then,  how  much  for  those  geese?" 

"  Well,  I  don't  know.  Do  you  think  thirty  cents 
apiece  is  too  much?     Ifyoudo,  why — " 

"  Oh,  no ;  don't  take  any  thing  off  of  that  estimate. 
They  wouldn't  taste  good  if  I  got  them  any  cheaper. 

*'And  the  chickens;  how  much  for  them?" 

"  Them  chickens  I  didn't  want  to  part  with,  and  I'll 
have  to  charge  you  twenty-five  cents  a  pair." 

These  are  actual  prices.  Of  course,  we  added  to  the 
silver  a  jackknife  for  the  boy,  and  a  few  cigars  for  the 
gentleman  who  owned  the  estate,  and  then  regarded 
the  purchase  as  a  ridiculously  cheap  one.  I  speak  of 
this  incident  the  more  in  detail,  because  it  was  the 
only  landing-place  on  the  coast  where  provisions  were 
not  as  dear,  or,  in  most  instances,  dearer  than  in  New 
York  or  Boston.  What  the  people  at  the  various  sta- 
tions charge  each  other,  I  do  not  know ;  but  we  found 
it  impossible  to  get  ice  even,  or  any  other  provisions 
for  the  yacht,  without  being  subjected  to  a  process  of 
extortion  against  which  we  more  than  once  rebelled. 
Isaac's  Harbor,  however,  is  seldom  visited  by  passing 
vessels.     It  is  in  the  flower  of  Acadian  innocence  of 


Trout  and  Mosquitoes.  91 

those  little  games  which  wiser  folks  are  accustomed  to 
play.  The  people  are  slow,  kind-hearted,  and  fearfully- 
ignorant.  There  is  no  church  in  the  village,  and  no 
school-house,  and  only  those  who  are  residents  for  a 
short  time  merely,  and  who  come  from  other  parts, 
take  a  newspaper. 

The  scenery  is  delightful.  The  wooded  hills  form  a 
green  background,  and  the  little  houses,  scattered  along 
the  single  street,  present  from  the  distance  a  very  pict- 
uresque appearance.  The  chief  source  of  income  is  a 
large  "  lobster  factory,"  by  what  misnojner  called  so  I 
could  never  understand,  which  is  carried  on  by  foreign 
talent.  These  simple  people  visit  their  pots  twice  a 
day,  earning  by  hard  work  very  small  and  uncertain 
wages,  and  yet  seem  to  be  perfectly  content  with  their 
lot.  When  questioned  as  to  their  desire  to  be  doing 
something  better,  to  be  engaged  in  business  by  which 
they  can  acquire  a  competency,  they  open  their  eyes 
in  wonder,  and  stare  at  you  as  though  you  were  talk- 
ing in  a  dead  language.  No  great  ambition  ever  stirred 
them.  They  are  quite  content  and  happy  with  little, 
and  would  not  take  much  trouble  to  get  more. 

These  are  fair  samples  of  the  inhabitants  all  along 
the  coast.  They  are  dull  and  sluggish,  and  can  hardly 
be  hired,  even  by  the  promise  of  glittering  wages,  to 
do  any  unusual  work.  They  love  their  fishing-boats, 
and  have  become  so  accustomed  to  a  diet  of  fish  and 
lobsters  that  they  can  scarcely  be  persuaded  to  eat 
any  thing  else ;  and  they  have  no  purpose  beyond  set- 
ting a  buoy  or  hauling  a  herring-seine. 

"  Now  then,  boys,  for  our  first  experience  in  camp- 
ing out,"  I  said  that  afternoon. 


92 


Starboard  and  Port. 


"  Good  enough,"  was  the  unanimous  response. 
"  Halloo,  there,  forward  !     Nimrod  !" 
"Aye,  aye,  sir!" 

*'  Have  you  ever  fished  in  this  region  ?" 
"  Indeed  I  have.     There  isn't  a  spot  in  this  whole 
section  of  country  as  big  as  the  palm   of  your  hand 
where  I  haven't  fished." 

"  Well,  are  there  any  trout 
here  ?" 

"  Trout?  my  goodness  !  Why 
I've  seen  trout  so  thick  here 
that  you  couldn't  cross  the 
stream  for  them  bumping  against 
your  legs." 

"  Good !  that's  the  place  for 
us.  Get  your  traps  ready ;  fold 
up  your  tent  like  an  Arab  " — he 
can  enlarge  the  tents  into  a  de- 
formity better  than  any  Arab  I 
ever  read  about — "  and  we  will 
all  quietly  steal  away." 
"  Very  good,  sir." 
"  Say,  Nimrod,  any  game  in 
the  woods?" 

"  Game  ?  I  was  out  once  rab- 
bit-hunting, when  I  was  actually 
chased  back  to  my  tent  by  'em. 
I  shot  at  'em  for  two  hours,  till  my  powder  was  gone, 
and  then  I  beat  'em  on  the  head  with  a  club." 

"  Ah  !  Can  we  get  just  a  couple  for  supper,  do  you 
think?"  Supper  was  a  serious  question  with  Nimrod, 
and  he  at  once  came  down  to  solid  facts,  and  said, 


Trout  and  Mosquitoes.  93 

"  I  think  Ah  Bew  " — that  was  his  pronunciation — 
"  had  better  put  us  up  a  few  things.  I'll  see  to 
it." 

For  half  an  hour  we  were  tolerably  busy.  Knap- 
sacks were  filled  with  all  the  little  necessities  of  careful 
housekeeping,  such  as  towels,  tooth-brushes,  and  bed- 
blankets,  wolf- robes  were  tied  up  into  the  smallest 
possible  bundles,  and  we  were  ready. 

Nimrod  went  ashore  to  engage  the  only  two  horses 
in  the  village,  carrying  our  truck  with  him,  and  we  fol- 
lowed in  the  gig. 

"  Now,  bundle  your  traps  aboard  the  cart,  gentle- 
men, for  we  have  no  time  to  lose ;  we  have  eight  miles 
to  travel  over  rough  roads,  and  with  horses  whose  very 
best  known  speed  is  three  and  a  half  miles  per — " 

"  Day,"  broke  in  Bertric. 

With  a  lusty  "  get  up !"  and  an  impatient "  get  away !" 
we  started. 

If  the  people  were  slow,  the  horses  were  quadrupe- 
dal snails.  A  fair  walk  was  the  greatest  speed  we  could 
enforce  by  the  most  vigorous  appliances. 

"  Boy,"  to  the  driver,  "  I'll  give  you  a  quarter  if  you 
will  make  that  brute  trot  for  four  consecutive  min- 
utes." 

The  boy  looked  in  blank  amazement,  first  at  the 
speaker,  then  at  the  shining  quarter,  and  brought  his 
whip  down  on  the  ribs  of  the  horse,  making  them  re- 
sound like  a  drum.  The  beast  seemed  to  be  taken  by 
surprise,  and  actually  made  a  motion  as  though  he 
would  trot,  but  thought  better  of  it,  and  settled  back 
into  a  more  sullen  walk  than  ever. 

We  resigned  ourselves  to  the  situation,  and  gave  our 


94  Starboard  and  Port. 

attention  to  the  scenery,  which  was  superb.  The  sun 
was  sinking  behind  a  bank  of  gray  clouds,  and  when  at 
last  we  reached  the  top  of  a  knoll  the  country  was 
spread  out  before  us  in  undulating  beauty,  while  in  the 
far  distance  lay  the  harbor,  with  the  Nettie  lying  quietly 
at  anchor.     Just  then  we  entered  the  woods. 

"  I  say,  Nimrod,  where  are  the  rabbits?" 

"  Oh,  they  are  further  on," 

"  Yes,  a  good  ways  further,"  said  Stigand. 

"  Are  they,  though  ?  Look  there  !  Stop  your  old 
horse,  and  let  me  out,"  said  Fletch,  in  a  whisper. 

It  was  unnecessary  to  stop  the  horse,  however,  for 
Fletch  half  jumped  and  half  slipped  over  the  back- 
board, and  was  drawing  a  bead  on  something  which 
only  he  could  see. 

"  Bang  !"  sounded  the  smooth-bore,  and  then  Fletch 
rushed  into  the  bushes,  from  which  he  presently 
emerged  bringing  as  a  trophy  a  fine  fat  gray  rab- 
bit, 

"  There's  our  supper,  at  any  rate," 

"  Didn't  I  tell  you  ?"  cried  Nimrod. 

"  Jump  aboard,  Fletch ;  it  will  be  dark  soon,  and  we 
want  to  get  to  a  camping-ground  as  soon  as  possible," 

We  could  hear  the  rushing  streams  in  the  near  dis- 
tance, and  soon  came  upon  one  of  the  most  romantic 
spots  I  ever  beheld. 

A  hill,  well  wooded,  and  with  huge  timber  trees, 
sloped  gently  down  to  the  water.  There  was  hardly 
any  underbrush  to  obstruct  either  view  or  travel. 
Moss-covered  monsters  of  the  forests,  the  dead  giants 
of  olden  times,  stretched  their  sad  lengths  along  the 
ground,  while  the  woodpecker  made  the  air  resound 


Trout  and  Mosquitoes.  95 

with  the  noise  of  his  search  for  food.  The  river,  or 
stream,  for  it  was  hardly  more  than  that,  boiled  and 
rushed  along  a  sinuous  path,  singing  its  way  to  the 
sea.  Here  and  there  it  broke  into  a  fall  that  splashed 
upon  the  rocks  below ;  and  anon  it  hurried  down  the 
steep  incline,  like  a  crowd  of  merry  fairies,  tumbling 
over  one  another,  and  laughing  all  the  while.  Then 
again  it  settled  itself  into  the  quiet  of  a  pond  for  a  few 
rods,  filling  the  deep  gullies,  in  which  the  speckled 
treasures  lay  watching  for  the  moths  and  bugs,  which 
were  struggling  to  get  free. 

"  Now  then,  gentlemen,  this  is  the  spot  in  which  to 
encamp.  You,  Stigand,  take  the  axe,  and  cut  us  a 
straight  pole,  say  about  fifteen  feet  long,  for  the  tent ; 
and  you,  Bertric,  take  the  hatchet,  and  cut  some  pins 
to  fasten  the  ropes  with." 

"  Well  done,  boys !  Now  give  us  a  lift,  and  up  she 
goes." 

In  a  moment  the  tent  was  lifted  in  air,  the  side- 
ropes  were  pinned  to  the  sod,  and  we  had  a  cosy  little 
house  erected  about  ten  feet  in  diameter. 

For  supper  we  had  hard-tack,  strong  coffee,  without 
milk  or  sugar,  a  roasted  rabbit,  and  cheerful  conversa- 
tion. That  was  living  fit  for  a  king,  and  a  great  deal 
better  than  most  kings  enjoy. 

We  cut  knots  of  pine  which  served  us  well  for  light. 
Sticking  them  in  the  ground,  half  a  dozen  of  them  in  a 
semicircle  in  front  of  the  tent,  we  passed  the  evening 
in  enjoying  the  novelty  of  our  situation,  and  at  ten 
o'clock  wrapped  the  drapery  of  our  couches  about  us, 
and  lay  down  to  pleasant  dreams. 

Sunrise  found  us  all  awake. 


96  Starboard  and  Port. 

"  Nimrod,  get  my  trout-rod  and  fly-book,  and  I  will 
furnish  you  with  a  royal  breakfast.  Wy  the  way,  Bcr- 
tric,  what's  the  matter  with  your  face  ?" 

"  Matter  enough,"  said  Bcrtric.  "  I  am  all  on  fire. 
A  good  million  of  mosquitoes  have  been  feeding  on 
me  all  night,  and  my  face  feels  like  a  section  of  the 
Alleghany  Mountains." 

Poor  fellow!  he  was  sadly  bitten,  and  a  sight  to 
awaken  pity  in  the  most  hardened  heart.  Numerous 
protuberances,  great  boulders  of  flesh,  rose  in  uncomely 
grandeur  all  over  his  face.  He  had  scorned  the  net- 
ting which  the  more  careful  had  provided,  and  paid 
dearly  for  the  neglect.  I  fumbled  about  my  knapsack, 
found  a  bottle  of  ammonia,  and  soon  managed  to  af- 
ford him  some  relief. 

The  great  drawback  of  these  woods  is  the  armies 
upon  armies  of  predatory  insects.  In  the  daytime 
you  are  encompassed  by  a  cloud  of  black  flies  and 
their  tiny  relations,  which  the  Indians  call  "  no  see 
'ems,"  they  are  so  small.  But  the  bite — oh,  the  bite  is 
the  biggest  part  of  them.  At  night  these  pests  retire 
from  the  field,  only  to  be  replaced  by  enormous  mos- 
quitoes, which  after  a  little  render  life  entirely  unde- 
sirable. 

Up  in  Labrador  they  have  a  legend  which,  while  it 
satisfactorily  accounts  for  the  existence  of  these  creat- 
ures, does  not  for  that  reason  reconcile  you  to  their 
predations.  It  is  said  that  a  certain  saint,  I  believe 
it  was  a  woman,  was  banished  from  heaven  for  dis- 
obedience to  the  commands  of  one  of  the  higher 
angels,  and  condemned  to  live  in  a  lonely  and  unin- 
habited part  of  the  earth.     The  angel  who  was  ap- 


Trout  and  Mosquitoes.  97 

pointed  to  carry  out  the  sentence  looked  over  the  en- 
tire planet,  but  came  across  no  spot  so  barren  and 
lonely  as  Labrador,  to  which  place  he  conducted  the 
recreant.  Time  hung  very  heavy  on  her  hands,  as 
one  would  naturally  suppose.  The  contrast  between 
the  Celestial  City,  with  its  genial  companionship,  and 
the  rugged  shores  of  Labrador,  was  sufficiently  great 
to  excite  a  sense  of  weariness.  She  prayed  at  length 
that  something  might  be  sent  her,  even  if  it  were  only 
a  few  flies.  Her  prayer  was  answered,  and  the  mos- 
quito, the  buelot,  and  the  black  fly  were  created. 
That  saint  got  more  than  she  wanted,  I  suspect,  and 
I  can  not  repress  the  feeling  that  the  "  higher  angel  " 
was  a  little  hard  on  her.  At  any  rate,  since  that  time 
both  saints  and  sinners  alike  have  been  bitten,  until 
human  nature  has  invented  certain  strong  explosives 
wath  which  to  express  its  estimation  of  the  gift. 

"  I  say,  Nimrod,  what  fly  shall  I  use  ?  The  brown 
hackle  or  a  white  moth,  or  what  ?" 

"  You  had  better  tiy  a  black  moth  this  morning." 
He  fumbled  over  my  fly-book,  and,  picking  out  a  deli- 
cate little  fellow,  made  by  Pritchard,  said,  "  There,  that 
will  kill  finely,  I  suspect ;  try  him." 

That  delicate  rod,  which  is  the  very  apple  of  my 
eye,  and  which  I  have  used  on  so  many  expeditions 
from  the  Adirondacks  to  the  heart  of  Maine,  was  taken 
out  of  its  case  with  great  care,  and  put  together  with 
loving  hands.  It  is  a  four-jointed  rod,  and  weighs 
only  eleven  ounces.  It  was  made  for  me  years  ago 
by  a  master  workman,  and  one  who  had  no  little  skill 
as  an  angler.  It  was  twelve  feet  and  a  half  long,  and 
so  well  balanced  that  with  eare  I  could  bring  the  tip 

E 


98  Starboard  and  Port. 

and  the  butt  together.  The  butt  was  of  straight- 
grained  ash,  and  as  fine  a  piece  of  wood  as  I  ever  saw. 
The  second  joint  was  of  hickory,  and  the  third  of 
greenheart,  while  the  tip  was  of  elastic  cane.  It  had 
whipped  a  great  many  streams,  and  killed  more  fish 
than  I  can  count. 

I  fitted  my  click  reel,  on  which  was  wound  about 
forty  yards  of  silk-and-hair  line,  into  its  accustomed 
groove,  ran  the  line  through  the  rings,  and  chose  a  deli- 
cate leader  of  gut  about  six  feet  long,  to  which  I  at- 
tached my  black  moth,  and  then  felt  ready  for  the  prey. 

Now,  kind  reader,  go  down  with  me  to  the  stream. 
How  it  boils  just  here  !  It  dashes  over  and  by  those 
rocks  like  a  thing  of  life,  but  there's  no  use  in  casting 
the  line  just  yet,  for  there  are  no  trout  here.  Just  be- 
low, down  where  those  bushes  hang  over  the  stream 
and  make  a  shade,  there  is  a  pool ;  it  must  be  five  or 
six  feet  deep,  and  eight  or  ten  feet  across,  and  in  that 
pool  is  our  breakfast,  if  I  do  not  mistake.  Now  then, 
make  no  noise,  for  the  true  angler  delights  to  come  on 
his  prey  unawares.  Can  you  see  him  ?  He  is  certain- 
ly there,  waiting  for  us.  He  heads  up  stream,  and  is 
on  the  lookout  for  a  little  black  moth  that  has  ac- 
cidentally wet  his  wings  and  finds  it  hard  to  fly.  I 
will  reel  in  my  line,  except  about  four  or  five  yards, 
and  try  him.  There,  that  moth  dropped  just  right, 
and  is  floating  down  over  his  nose. 

Heigh-ho  !  What  a  rush  !  He  jumped  clean  out  of 
the  water.  What  a  beauty  he  is !  Did  you  see  his  sil- 
ver belly  and  his  crimson  spots,  as  he  flung  the  foam  ? 
I've  got  him  well  hooked.  Now  watch,  for  he'll  fight 
hard  before  he  comes  to  net.     There,  he  makes  a  rush 


Trout  and  Mosqiiiloes.  99 

for  the  dead  log  yonder.  If  he  gets  under  it,  good-bye, 
trout.  I  will  bend  the  rod  backward,  and  give  him 
the  butt,  for  he  is  crossing  the  stream,  where  he  will 
suck  the  bottom  and  stay  in  the  sulks.  He  took  out 
five  or  six  yards  of  line,  which  must  be  reeled  back, 
and  then  for  another  fight.  Now  I  give  him  a  slight 
pressure,  pricking  his  mouth  with  the  hook,  and  he's 
up  and  off  again.  He  pulls  hard,  and  as  the  space  is 
very  narrow,  I  give  him  the  butt  again,  and  keep  a 
heavy  strain  on  him.  Now,  then,  he's  tired  out.  Take 
the  net,  Fletch,  and  put  it  under  him,  as  tenderly  as 
though  you  were  his  mother.  Good !  now  draw  him 
out.  How  he  kicks  !  but  he's  safe.  There's  our  break- 
fast, boy,  all  secure. 

He  was  safely  landed,  and  when  hung  to  the  scales 
was  found  to  weigh  just  two  pounds  and  one  ounce. 
No  mean  fellow  for  such  a  stream  as  this. 

After  the  sun  got  up  pretty  high  I  found  the  brown 
hackle  the  most  killing  fly.  We  fished  for  a  couple  of 
hours,  sometimes  crawling  through  the  bushes,  and 
once  in  a  while  losing  our  temper  as  the  line  got 
caught  in  a  branch  just  out  of  reach,  and  sometimes 
wading  up  to  our  waists  in  the  middle  of  the  cur- 
rent. Ah !  but  it  was  glorious  sport.  I  did  not  think 
of  the  mosquitoes,  but  found  it  necessary  on  my  ar- 
rival at  the  camp  to  use  ammonia  pretty  freely.  There 
was  hardly  a  spot  on  my  face  as  big  as  my  finger-tip 
which  was  not  ridged.  Fletch  was  in  the  gayest  of 
spirits,  for  it  was  his  first  experience  in  fly-fishing,  and 
he  had  captured  more  than  a  dozen  beauties.  There 
are  few  things  on  earth  that  will  compare  in  solid  hap- 
piness with  a  thirty -minute  fight  with  a  two -pound 


lOO  Starboard  and  Port. 

trout,  in  a  stream  where  there  are  coverts,  and  which 
ends  in  a  successful  capture. 

Wc  strolled  through  the  woods  in  search  of  Nim- 
rod's  army  of  rabbits,  but  found  none.  The  old  man 
was  rather  crusty  as  wc  teased  him  about  his  enor- 
mous stories,  but  regained  his  good  temper  when  we 
assured  him  that  the  trout  paid  us  well  for  the  trip. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  we  stowed  our  tent  and  bun- 
dles into  the  two  wagons,  and  were  deliberately  dragged 
back  to  the  village  by  the  two  Acadian  horses.  Hail- 
ing the  Nettie,  we  were  soon  on  board,  tired  but  happy, 
and  indulging  in  the  luxury  of  fried  trout  and  baked 
potatoes.  Altogether  it  was  a  charming  time,  and  we 
agreed  to  make  a  white  mark  against  it  in  our  mem- 
ories and  hearts. 


Larks  and  a  Chat.  loi 


CHAPTER  VI. 

LARKS    AND    A    CHAT. 

"Perhaps  it  may  turn  out  a  sang, 
Perhaps  turn  out  a  sermon." 

BUKNS. 

"For  every  inch  that  is  not  fool  is  rogue." 

Dryden. 

ETWEEN  Country  Harbor  and  the 
Gut  of  Canso  we  had  no  wind  at  all, 
and  were  literally  given  over  to  all 
sorts  of  pranks  and  practical  jokes. 
There  was  never  a  day  in  the  whole 
trip  when  we  succeeded  in  subtract- 
ing so  many  years  from  our  general  average  of  forty- 
two,  and  in  putting  on  the  reckless  habits  of  boyhood. 
Nothing  seemed  to  be  too  daring,  and  nothing  too 
foolish  to  do.  At  one  time  the  whole  company  were 
climbing  the  shrouds,  hand  over  hand,  and  hanging 
from  various  heights.  There  was  a  deep-seated  rivalry 
among  us  to  reach  the  topmast.  Many  were  the 
struggles,  the  plunges,  the  kicks,  as  though  somewhere 
in  the  air  an  invisible  platform  was  placed,  from  which 
to  get  a  fresh  impulse,  but  to  no  purpose.  We  all  got 
out  of  breath  at  nearly  the  same  moment,  and  came 
sliding  down  to  the  deck  with  a  rapidity  which  burned 
the  cuticle  from  more  than  one  hand.     After  a  man 


I02  Starboard  and  Port. 

has  expended  the  last  ounce  of  energy  in  the  upward 
cHmb,  it  is  curious  how  anxious  he  is  to  get  back  to 
terra  firma.  lie  lets  the  rope  slip  through  his  fingers 
in  the  most  reckless  way,  and  pays  for  his  carelessness 
with  two  or  three  blisters. 

At  another  time  we  laid  traps  for  each  other,  and 
once  in  a  while  a  man  would  get  caught  in  a  most 
laughable  and  ridiculous  predicament.  Poor  Stigand 
w^as  quietly  walking  across  the  deck,  when  unwittingly 
he  put  his  feet  into  a  noose  which  lay  in  ambush,  and 
in  an  instant  Bertric  and  Ruloff,  who  had  rove  the  line 
through  a  block  at  the  foretop,  hauled  vigorously  at 
the  other  end.  Stigand  was  fairly  trapped.  The  rope 
closed  about  his  legs  before  he  could  extricate  himself, 
and  in  a  moment  more  he  was  lying  flat  on  his  back, 
while  his  pedals  seemed  about  to  take  a  trip  to  the 
mast-head.  Such  a  shout  of  derision  followed  the  suc- 
cess of  the  trick  that  the  victim  struggled  until  he  was 
red  in  the  face  to  get  free.  There  are  some  events  in 
life,  however,  to  which  resistance  only  adds  misery. 
And  this  was  one.  Of  course,  the  more  he  struggled 
the  taughter  the  line  was  held,  and  the  higher  his  legs 
ascended.  When  he  had  assumed  a  position  almost 
perpendicular,  but  with  the  wrong  end  up,  Bertric 
approached  him  to  the  music  of  the  old  song,  "  Come 
into  my  parlor,  said  the  spider  to  the  fly." 

"  Well,  here  I  am.  Sir  Spider.  What  is  your  gracious 
pleasure,"  moaned  Stigand. 

"  Do  you  forgive  me  for  every  thing  I  have  ever 
done  to  you  ?"  said  Bertric. 

"  Yes,  I'll  forgive  you,  if  you  let  me  down  before  I 
have  a  fit  of  apoplexy,"  said  Stigand. 


Larks  and  a  Chat.  103 

*'  And  for  every  thing  I  shall  do  to  you  in  the  fut- 
ure ?"  queried  Bertric. 

"  Yes,  yes,  every  thing,"  said  Stigand. 

"  And  do  you  forgive  me  for  that  ?"  said  Bertric 
again,  giving  his  victim  a  poke  in  the  ribs. 

"  No,  sir!"  cried  Stigand,  struggling  to  get  free.  But 
the  rope  had  been  fastened  to  the  shrouds,  and  he  was 
evidently  in  for  the  whole  play. 

*'  Once  more  I  ask,  will  you  forgive  me  for  that  ?" 
said  Bertric,  as  he  repeated  the  stroke. 

''  Yes,  I  forgive  any  thing  and  every  thing,"  yelled 
Stigand,  growing  purple. 

"  Then  let  him  down,"  and  Ruloff  unfastened  the 
line. 

Stigand  got  on  his  feet  good-naturedly,  and  simply 
said,  "  Bertric,  I  owe  you  one  ;"  and  then  quoted  with 
great  effect  a  part  of  the  little  speech  of  Shylock  : 
*'  The  villainy  you  teach  me  I  will  execute  ;  and  it 
shall  go  hard  but  I  will  better  the  instruction." 

It  was  scarcely  an  hour  before  Stigand  had  ample 
revenge.  We  had  on  board  an  overgrown  fish-horn, 
used  to  warn  neighboring  vessels  in  a  fog.  It  was 
fully  six  feet  long,  and  from  its  awful  mouth  pro- 
ceeded sounds  terrible  enough  to  scare  the  good  tem- 
per from  the  sunniest  constitution.  When  we  were 
all  disposed  to  be  quiet,  and  each,  book  in  hand,  had 
taken  his  place  in  some  shady  part  of  the  deck,  under 
lee  of  foresail  or  mainsail,  Bertric,  by  some  unlucky 
chance,  came  across  this  instrument  of  musical  torture, 
and  instantly  saw  larks  in  the  distance. 

He  crept  up  behind  me,  as  I  lay  absorbed  in  the 
mysteries   of  Blunt's  "  Coast  Pilot,"  and,  placing  the 


I04  Starboard  and  Port. 

mouth  of  the  horn  within  six  inches  of  my  tympanum, 
blew  a  blast  sufficiently  sonorous  to  awaken  the  dead. 

Heaven  defend  you,  if  you  ever  have  such  an  experi- 
ence. When  reading  a  quiet  and  somewhat  somnifer- 
ous volume,  like  the  one  I  have  named,  the  mind  nat- 
urally takes  upon  itself  a  calm  and  serene  mood,  and 
unsuspiciously  views  all  things  through  the  me- 
dium of  its  own  repose.  To  be  roused  from  such  a 
condition  by  a  blast  that  would  do  honor  to  the  lungs 
of  some  indignant  ogre  is  like  waking  up  from  a 
sound  sleep  with  the  cry  of  "  Fire  !"  in  your  ears.  I 
jumped  to  my  feet  in  an  instant,  and  turned  upon  the 
invader  of  my  peace  with  as  strong  an  expletive  on  my 
lips  as  I  could  lay  hold  of,  and  met  his  smiling  coun- 
tenance beaming  on  me  with  such  an  innocent  sense 
of  pleasure  that  the  word  died  before  it  escaped  the 
dental  barrier ;  and  simply  murmuring  those  household 
words,  *'  Let  us  have  peace,"  lay  down  again  to  ex- 
plore the  labyrinths  of  Blunt. 

Urged  by  his  victory  over  me,  he  looked  about  for 
another  victim  on  whom  to  expend  his  nervous  energy. 
His  eye  fell  on  Stigand.  Now  this  gentleman,  scarce- 
ly recovered  from  the  exhaustion  incident  to  his  per- 
formances on  the  tight  rope,  had  satisfactorily  disposed 
himself  on  the  wolf-skin  which  he  had  placed  on  deck 
close  to  the  skylight.  Bertric  took  in  the  situation 
with  all  its  possibilities  at  a  glance.  He  managed  to 
get  down  into  the  saloon  unobserved,  and,  putting  his 
horn  through  the  skylight,  and  close  to  the  recumbent 
Stigand,  blew  till  his  cheeks  were  in  danger  of  burst- 
ing, then  suddenly  withdrew  the  horn.  Stigand,  who 
was  writhing  under  the  infliction,  saw  an  opportunity 


Larks  and  a  Chat.  105 

for  revenge.  He  got  up  quickly,  and  rushed  to  the 
cook's  galley — 

"  Steward  !  a  quart  pot — quick  !" 

"  Yes  sir,  yes  sir,"  said  Ah  Boo,  as  he  hurried  to  the 
hanging  tins,  and,  selecting  a  tin  quart  pail,  gave  it  to 
Stigand. 

Stigand  drew  a  bucket  of  salt  water,  filled  the  tin 
pail,  and  then  quietly  took  his  position  at  the  skylight, 
as  though  nothing  had  happened.  He  heard  the  low 
chuckle  of  Bertric  in  the  depths  below,  and  waited 
patiently  until  his  turn  should  come.  Nor  did  he 
have  to  wait  long,  for  Bertric,  thinking  that  a  good 
thing  is  worth  doing  twice,  slyly  pushed  the  horn 
through  the  skylight,  and  put  it  to  his  mouth  for 
another  blow. 

By  this  time  we  all  saw  what  was  going  on,  and 
watched  the  issue  with  vast  merriment. 

No  sooner  had  Bertric  got  the  horn  in  position  and 
opened  his  mouth  for  an  effort,  which,  if  it  had  been 
given,  would  have  burst  any  tympanum  of  ordinary 
thickness,  than  Stigand  emptied  the  entire  contents 
of  the  pail  into  the  hollow  tube.  The  sound  was  just 
coming  out,  but  it  was  met  half-way  by  the  all-con- 
quering water.  We  heard  a  gulp,  a  sputter,  a  groan, 
as  the  liquid  struck  the  lips,  entered  the  mouth,  and 
forced  itself  half-way  down  the  throat  of  Bertric,  who, 
taking  the  horn  from  his  lips,  was  drenched  from  head 
to  foot,  and  then  we  all  broke  out  in  a  shout  that  made 
the  welkin  ring. 

Bertric,  however,  does  not  easily  lose  his  balance. 
He  good-naturedly  put  his  head  out  of  the  companion- 
way,  and  said,  **  Gentlemen,  shall  I  get  your  umbrellas  ? 

E2 


io6  Starboard  and  Port. 

I  think  it  is  raining,"  and  then  retired  to  put  on  a  dry 
suit  of  clothes. 

"  I  think  we  are  all  boys  to-day,"  I  said  to  Ruloff, 
when  the  confusion  had  subsided. 

"  Well,  and  why  not  be  ?"  he  answered.  "  We  arc 
men  eleven  months  in  the  year,  and  can  afford  for  a 
few  weeks  to  go  back  to  fifteen.  A  little  fun  hurts  no 
man.  Besides,  you  know  the  saying  of  that  famous 
Greek  ?" 

"  What  was  it  ?"  I  inquired. 

*'  That  a  man  who  isn't  a  fool  half  the  time  is  a  fool 
all  the  time,"  said  Ruloff,  with  great  emphasis.  "  We 
are  enjoying  the  one  half  now,  and  I  don't  doubt  it 
will  enable  us  to  be  wise  men  the  rest  of  the  year.  I 
have  a  theory  that  every  man  must  at  short  intervals 
go  back  to  fifteen,  or  he  will  never  be  able  to  bear  fifty 
gracefully.  Our  boyhood  ought  to  send  its  rays  of 
laughter  through  our  manhood,  just  as  the  Northern 
Lights  shoot  into  the  darkness  of  midnight.  Tom 
Moore  says  that — 

'  Old  Socrates,  that  pink  of  sages, 
Kept  a  pet  demon,  on  board  wages. 
To  go  about  with  him  incog, 
And  sometimes  give  his  wits  a  jog ;' 

and  for  the  same  purpose  we  keep  the  demon  of  fun, 
not  '  on  board  wages,'  but  on  board  ship.  To  be 
grave  at  such  a  time  as  this  is  like  turning  Mother 
Goose  into  stately  Latin." 

"  By  the  way,"  I  said,  "  that  last  remark  reminds  me 
that  it  seems  to  have  been  a  pleasant  pastime  for  some 
of  the  quaint  scholars  of  England  to  do  exactly  that 
thinof." 


Larks  and  a  Chat.  107 

"  What  thing  ?"  asked  Ruloff. 

"  Why,  translating  Mother  Goose  into  the  vernacular 
of  Jove  and  Venus.  Nearly  all  of  the  old  lady's  verses 
have  been  funnily  rendered,  as,  for  instance,  the  famous 
story  which  begins  with  the  ejaculation  '  Hey,  diddle, 
diddle,'  and  goes  on  with  a  pathetic  recital  of  the 
prowess  of  the  cow  and  the  knavery  of  the  dish." 

"  Indeed,  and  how  does  it  sound  in  the  tongue  of 
Cicero  ?"  said  Ruloff. 

"  Thus,"  I  answered.  "  Listen  to  this  piece  of  his- 
tory when  properly  set  up  in  Roman  characters : 

*  Hei  didulum,  atque  iterum  didulum  !     Felisque  fidesque  ; 
Vacca  super  lunse  cornua  prosiluit ; 
Nescio  qua  catulus  risit  dulcedine  ludi, 
Abstulit  et  turpe  laux  cochleare  fuga.' 

"  That,"  I  continued, "  was  the  work  of  no  less  a  per- 
sonage than  Henry  Douey,  vicar  of  Wilton." 

That  same  afternoon  we  were  all  sitting  on  the  quar- 
ter-deck, thoroughly  enjoying  the  scene  as  we  hurried 
through  the  water,  the  spray  being  thrown  on  deck  as 
far  aft  as  the  mainmast.  The  cold,  gray  shore,  which 
not  even  the  brilliant  sunlight  could  charm  into  a 
bright  mood,  lay  only  three  or  four  miles  off.  The 
dog  seemed  to  have  caught  the  spirit  of  the  view,  and 
lay  at  our  feet  dreaming  of  happy  hunting-grounds. 

''  What  are  you  thinking  of,  Bertric?"  said  Algar,  as 
he  threw  a  coil  of  rope  over  the  prostrate  form  of  the 
former. 

''Thinking  of?  Do  you  imagine  I  can  make  the  ef- 
fort to  think  ?  I  am  enjoying  the  very  luxury  of  liv- 
ing ;  I  am  thinking  of  nothing,  and  am  happy." 

"  Good,"  broke  in  Ruloff;  "  I  am  in  your  condition. 


io8  Starboard  and  Port. 

I  am  in  perfect  repose,  such  as  I  always  supposed 
I^rahma  enjoys  as  he  sleeps  the  eternities  away  on  a 
downy  bed  of  clouds." 

"  Well,"  said  Algar,  "  I  have  been  guilty  of  wonder- 
ing. I  don't  believe  my  brain  is  vigorous  enough  to 
actually  think ;  but  it  has  occurred  to  me  to  wonder 
what  kind  of  vessels  those  sixteenth -century  fellows 
made  their  trips  in.  How  do  you  suppose  they  would 
compare  with  the  Nettie,  for  instance  ?  Does  any  body 
know  ?" 

*'  For  one,"  answered  Stigand,  "  I  am  only  interested 
in  the  Englishmen,  who  came  across  on  the  northerly 
line.  The  Spaniards  went  south,  and  my  antislavery 
principles  will  not  allow  me  to  have  any  respect  for 
them." 

"  Yes,  yes  ;  you  are  right,"  cried  Bertric,  managing  to 
get  up  on  his  elbow — "  you  are  right,  Stigand.  Take, 
for  instance,  that  old  salt — what's  his  name?  Oh,  yes, 
Gilbert ;  Humphrey  was  his  cognomen,  with  a  Sir  pre- 
fixed— a  very  jolly  old  tar,  who  went  down  to  the 
bottom  after  the  most  approved  fashion.  Can't  some 
of  you  brush  up  your  memories,  and  tell  us  about  it  ? 
I  had  to  learn  it  once  for  playing  truant  at  school, 
and  it  gave  me  a  taste  for  the  sea  which  I  haven't 
got  over  yet."    * 

"■  I  would  like  to  have  seen  that  sturdy  old  sailor, 
and  have  often  wondered  what  he  looked  like,"  said 
Ruloff.  "  He  must  have  been  a  bronze  giant  to  en- 
dure all  he  went  through." 

''  True,"  said  Algar.  "  There  is  a  pen-picture  of  him 
somewhere  in  English  history.  If  I  remember  rightly, 
he  was  a  person  of  prepossessing  manners,  and  of  such 


Larks  and  a  Chat.  109 

noble  bearing  that  you  would  have  picked  him  out  in 
a  crowd  as  a  remarkable  man.  He  was  over  six  feet 
in  height,  with  an  immense  chest,  and  a  voice  that  be- 
tokened hearty  good-nature.  In  complexion  he  was 
rather  light,  and  in  temperament  sanguine.  He  was 
noted  for  his  enthusiasm,  his  courage,  his  patriotism, 
and,  oddly  enough,  for  his  eloquence.  Elizabeth  was 
so  pleased  with  the  success  of  his  first  voyage  that  she 
gave  him,  as  a  mark  of  her  royal  esteem,  an  emblemat- 
ical jewel.  I  think  it  was  a  small  anchor  of  beaten 
gold,  with  a  large  pearl  at  the  peak ;  and  he  was  so 
proud  of  this  mark  of  distinction  that  he  ever  after 
wore  it  at  his  breast." 

"Let  me  see,"  said  Ruloff;  "didn't  Raleigh,  who 
did  a  handsome  and  very  gentlemanly  thing  for  Eliza- 
beth, have  something  to  do  with  that  expedition  ?" 

"  No,  I  think  not,"  said  Algar,  who  was  rubbing  his 
forehead  to  electrify  some  facts  which  seemed  to  have 
a  paralysis.  "  No,  he  came  near  going,  but  my  impres- 
sion is  he  backed  out.  Gilbert,  who  was  a  sort  of  half- 
brother,  started  off  alone." 

"  It  was  some  time  in  June  or  July,  and  the  year  was 
1583,  when  he  turned  his  bows  toward  these  shores," 
broke  in  Stigand.  "  At  any  rate,  he  landed  in  what  is 
now  St.  Johns  in  August  of  that  year." 

"And  he  had  four  or  five  vessels,"  said  Ruloff,  "  not 
one  of  which  was  nearly  as  large  as  the  Nettie.  I 
wonder  they  were  willing  to  trust  themselves  in  the 
middle  of  the  Atlantic  in  such  tubs." 

"  There,  my  friend,  you  are  mistaken  ;  for  his  biggest 
vessel  was  the  Delight,  and  she  measured  one  hundred 
and  twenty  tons,  or  just  ten  tons  more  than  the  one 


no  Starboard  and  Port. 

we  arc  in,"  cried  Bcrtric,  coming  to  the  defense  of 
Gilbert. 

"  Still,"  said  Ruloff,  "  I  insist  that  she  was  no  larger 
than  the  Nettie,  after  all ;  for  she  was  as  blunt  as  a 
sperm-whale's  head,  and  as  flat  in  the  bows  as  a  three- 
story  wooden  house,  and  that  counts  for  at  least  ten 
tons  carpenter's  measurement." 

"But  who  knows  the  size  of  the  other  vessels?"  I 
asked.     "Does  any  one?" 

"Does  any  one?"  said  Algar,  defiantly.  "You  must 
remember  the  company  you  are  in,  sir.  I  can  tell  you 
the  name  and  the  tonnage  of  every  vessel  in  that 
fleet." 

"  You  can't  do  it,"  said  we  all  at  once. 

"Now  listen.  There  was  the  DcligJit ;  she  was  one 
hundred  and  twenty,  and  had  a  covered  deck,  and  ran 
up  to  a  point  at  the  poop  like  a  Chinese  junk.  Then 
there  was  the  Golden  Hind,  which  was  only  fifty  tons. 
Then  came  the  Sivalloiv,  of  the  same  size.  And,  lastly, 
the  Squirrel,  which  no  respectable  man  would  care  to 
go  round  Cape  Cod  in,  and  she  was  only  ten  tons." 

"  Yes,"  said  Ruloff,  who  had  been  cudgeling  his 
brain,  and  raking  up  the  almost  forgotten  lore  of  other 
days,  redolent  of  birch  and  foot-ball  and  fireworks, 
"  and  on  board  those  few  vessels  were  two  hundred 
and  sixty  men,  who  didn't  care  a  rush-light  for  the 
New  World,  but  only  for  the  gold  they  thought  to  dig 
up.  There  were  broken-down  musicians,  who  wern't 
fit  to  grind  a  hand-organ,  but  who  could  twang  the 
strings  well  enough  to  soothe  the  savage  breast,  and 
charm  the  gold  ornaments  out  of  his  ears.  For  freight, 
Gilbert  took  toys  with  which  to  tickle  the  fancy  of 


Larks  and  a  Chat.  1 1 1 

the  noble  red  man,  and,  last,  a  lot  of  hobby-horses,  for 
what  earthly  purpose  I  could  never  conceive." 

"Good!"  said  Stigand ;  "just  imagine  a  wild  Indian 
on  the  coast  of  Nova  Scotia,  brandishing  a  scalp  in  one 
hand,  while  with  the  other  he  held  the  reins  and  guided 
the  uncertain  steps  of  a  hobby-horse.  What  an  im- 
posing picture  !  It  only  needs  the  war-whoop  to  make 
it  complete." 

"  Gentlemen,  we'll  have  no  levity,  if  you  please,"  I 
said,  with  stern  severity.  "  I  am  anxious  to  know  the 
fate  of  those  craft." 

"  Well,  the  company  no  sooner  landed  than  they  got 
into  a  row.  There  was  no  gold  to  be  had  ;  and  though 
they  passed  a  fleet  of  more  than  one  hundred  vessels 
engaged  in  the  sedentary  occupation  of  the  cod-fishery, 
they  concluded  not  to  get  a  living  in  an  honest  way, 
but  fell  to  cutting  each  other's  throats — an  occupation 
which  does  not  conduce  to  a  successful  enterprise." 

"  But  the  vessels  ?"  asked  Bertric. 

"  The  Delight,  their  stand-by,  was  lost  soon  after 
their  arrival,  and  the  Swallow  was  sent  home  with  a 
score  of  sick  men  on  board.  A  while  after,  the  party 
started  for  Europe  in  the  Golden  Hind  and  the  Squir- 
rel. The  Squirrel  was  the  flag-ship,  with  Gilbert  on 
board." 

"  I  can't  conceive  why  such  a  shrewd  old  fellow  as 
he  should  choose  a  boat  of  ten  tons  for  a  flag-ship  in 
which  to  cross  the  ocean,"  said  Stigand. 

"  Exactly,"  answered  Bertric  ;  "but  perhaps  the  Gold- 
en Hind  was  a  little  soft  in  her  timbers,  or,  better  still, 
perhaps  the  old  gentleman  wanted  to  spend  the  time 
with  the  smallest  number ;  for  it  must  be  confessed 


1 1 2  Sliwboai'd  and  Port. 

that  his  expedition  was  made  up  of  the  raggedest  and 
most  villainous  set  of  men  that  could  be  scraped  out 
of  the  slums  of  a  British  seaport." 

"  Yes,  but  Gilbert  died  splendidly  ;  and  that  last 
scene  off  the  Azores  used  to  make  my  blood  tingle," 
said  Ruloff. 

"  If  the  story  is  true,"  broke  in  Algar,  *'  it  was  cer- 
tainly heroic.  He  was  sitting  on  deck  in  a  storm,  and 
when  the  little  tea-cup  of  a  craft  was  swallowed,  he 
was  heard  to  say,  *  Cheer  up,  boys ;  we  are  as  near  to 
heaven  by  sea  as  by  land.'  " 

"  That  strikes  me  as  being  very  heroic,"  said  Bertric  ; 
"  and  it  touches  the  highest  note  of  that  daring  which 
has  shed  lustre  upon  those  two  centuries  of  adventure. 
But  why  do  you  say,  '  if  true  ?'  " 

"Why?"  replied  Algar;  "because  there  is  an  air  of 
improbability  about  the  whole  story,  and  an  actual  im- 
possibility connected  with  that  part  of  it." 

"  No,  no,  no,  no,"  we  all  chimed  in ;  "  you  can't 
break  our  image  down  in  that  way.  You  heretical 
iconoclast !  the  story  is  too  good  not  to  be  true.  The 
internal  evidence  is  in  its  favor." 

"  The  internal  evidence  is  against  it,  as  you  shall 
confess,"  said  Algar,  defiantly.  "  Now  listen.  '  He 
was  heard  to  say,  "  Cheer  up,  boys,"  '  etc.  Is  not  that 
the  way  the  story  runs?  and  doesn't  History  herself 
laugh  when  she  puts  those  words  in  his  mouth  ?" 

"  Certainly  he  was  heard  to  say  it,"  we  answered. 

"  And  by  whom  was  he  heard  ?"  queried  Algar. 

"Why,  by  those  on  board  the  Golden  Hind,  to  be 
sure,"  said  we. 

"  Ah,  indeed  !"  said  Algar;  "  how  far  off  do  you  sup- 


Larks  and  a  Chat.  1 1 3 

pose  the  Golden  Hind  was  at  that  moment  ?  Not  less 
than  one  hundred  yards,  at  least ;  and  even  that  prox- 
imity would  have  been  exceedingly  dangerous." 

"  Well,  what  then  ?"  we  said. 

"  Only  this,"  he  replied,  "  that  in  an  Atlantic  gale, 
when  the  wind  was  blowing  hard  enough  to  blow  the 
Squirrel  to  Davy  Jones's  locker,  the  remark  which  Sir 
Humphrey  is  said  to  have  made  could  not  have  been 
heard.  Why,  when  the  wind  is  blowing  hard,  and  the 
Nettie  is  swashing  into  the  sea,  you  can  hardly  hear  the 
captain  give  his  orders — and  that  when  a  man  has  been 
stationed  amidships  to  catch  them  and  hurl  them  for- 
ward. And  how  is  a  vessel  that  is  a  full  hundred  yards 
off  going  to  hear  a  passing  remark  which  is  made  by  a 
captain  to  his  own  men?  You  see  the  thing  is  false 
on  the  face  of  it." 

"  Yes — but  history,"  began  Stigand. 

"  Oh,  pshaw !  what  is  history  ?"  said  Algar.  "  I 
don't  believe  every  thing  I  hear — do  you?" 

"  Supper  ready,  sir,"  said  Ah  Boo  ;  and  so  ended  the 
tilt.  Who  had  the  better  of  the  contest  I  leave  you 
to  decide. 


114 


Starboard  and  Port. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

A  SAND-EANK  AND   A  FIGHT. 

"  And,  departing,  leave  behind  us 
Footprints  on  the  sands  of  time." 

Longfellow. 

"  In  peace  there's  nothing  so  becomes  a  man 
As  modest  stillness  and  humility ; 
But  when  the  blast  of  war  blows  in  our  ears, 
Then  imitate  the  action  of  the  tiger : 
Stiffen  the  sinews,  summon  up  the  blood." 

Shakespeare. 

HE  wind  was  light  all  the  next  day, 
and  it  seemed  as  though  we  should 
never  get  beyond  the  ragged  rocks  of 
Nova  Scotia ;  but  in  the  early  after- 
noon we  sighted  White  Head,  and  by 
four  o'clock,  with  a  gentle  breeze,  managed  to  run  it 
down. 

While  we  were  sailing  on  so  smoothly  I  said  to  the 
captain, 

"  Cap,  where  away  does  Sable  Island  bear  from 
here?" 

"  Let  me  see,"  he  replied,  pondering,  and  taking  his 
direction  from  the  compass;  ''about  there,  I  should 
say,"  pointing  with  his  hand;  "as  nigh  E.S.E.  as  you 
can  make  it  out.     And  a  horrible  place  it  is." 

Sable  Island  is  a  great  curiosity,  whose  history  is  lit- 


A  Sand-  bank  and  a  Fight.  1 1 5 

tic  known  by  the  people  at  large.  It  is  a  bank  of  sand, 
situated  about  one  hundred  miles  from  the  mainland, 
and  right  in  the  track  of  vessels  from  Europe.  It  is 
about  thirty  miles  long,  and  one  and  a  half  in  width, 
and  presents  the  general  shape  of  a  bow.  By  what 
force  or  forces  it  ever  came  to  thrust  its  head  up  above 
water,  and  insist  upon  being  called  land,  when  by  good 
rights  it  ought  to  be  a  part  of  the  bottom  of  the  sea, 
no  one  can  tell.  On  the  north  of  the  island  there  are 
as  many  as  sixty  fathoms  of  water,  and  not  many  miles 
to  the  southward  it  deepens  to  three  hundred  fathoms. 
This  vast  sand-hill  rises  from  this  enormous  depth  just 
for  the  sake  of  getting  in  the  way  of  navigation.  It 
subserves  no  other  conceivable  purpose  than  to  be- 
guile unwary  craft  into  its  shoal  waters,  and  keep  them 
there  until  they  go  to  pieces.  It  is  so  cunning  in  its 
geological  demonism  that,  instead  of  lifting  its  front 
like  a  cliff  from  the  sea,  that  the  inward  and  outward 
bound  might  be  warned  of  its  proximity,  it  lies  very 
low,  only  a  few  feet  above  the  surface,  assuming  a  dull 
gray  color,  not  unlike  the  ocean  in  a  cloudy  day,  and 
stretches  its  shoals  out  for  miles,  with  only  six  or  ten 
feet  of  water  on  them  ;  so  that  when  a  vessel  thinks  she 
has  given  the  island  a  good  berth,  just  then  her  keel 
grinds  on  the  sand,  and  the  ship  and  cargo  are  lost  to 
a  certainty,  while  the  passengers  must  struggle  with  a 
heavy  and  remorseless  surge  in  order  to  save  their 
lives.  It  always  seemed  to  me,  as  I  looked  at  it  on 
the  chart,  like  Victor  Hugo's  devil  -  fish  lying  on 
the  water,  with  his  smooth  but  treacherous  back  jus-t 
above  the  surface,  and  his  little  hillocks  of  eyes  peer- 
ing around  the  horizon  for  a  stray  sail,  while  his  long 


1 1 6  Starboard  and  Port. 

tentacles  of  shoals  are  stretched  out  for  sixteen  miles 
in  one  direction  and  twenty-eight  in  another,  a  dan- 
gerous foe  to  all  passers-by. 

And  great  spoil  the  sandy  monster  has  had  in  times 
past.  Of  late  years  such  a  wholesome  dread  of  it  has 
pervaded  the  minds  of  our  merchants  that  they  have 
changed  the  course  of  their  vessels,  which  now  sail 
along  a  more  southerly  line,  and  so  keep  out  of  its 
reach.  But  the  stories  it  could  tell  of  shipwreck  and 
disaster  would  make  the  world's  blood  curdle  in  its 
veins,  while  each  particular  hair  would  stand  on  end  in 
horror.  It  is  worth  your  while,  if  you  are  not  well  up 
in  geography,  to  take  down  the  atlas,  and  look  out 
this  weird  monster  of  the  deep.  You  will  find  it  due 
south  from  Cape  Breton. 

The  surface  of  the  Island,  which  is  composed  of  sand 
without  a  rock,  is  low  and  undulating,  like  a  Western 
prairie.  Throughout  its  length  and  breadth  there  is  not 
a  single  tree  or  good-sized  shoot  to  be  found.  Its  only 
productions  are  a  strong  kind  of  grass,  known  as  sea- 
matweed,  with  here  and  there  a  whortleberry  patch 
and  some  cranberry  bushes.  Even  the  grass  refuses  to 
grow,  except  in  the  low  places  by  the  shore,  where  it  is 
continually  washed  by  the  incoming  waves.  When  the 
wind  blows  a  gale,  the  loose  sand  is  borne  aloft  like  a 
cloud,  sometimes  even  burying,  as  a  waterspout  does 
when  it  strikes  an  unfortunate  vessel,  those  poor  ship- 
wrecked creatures  who  are  looking  about  for  a  shelter. 
When  the  wind  dies  away,  you  find  here  and  there  con- 
ical hills  from  fifty  to  a  hundred  feet  high,  which  have 
been  piled  up  by  the  capricious  northwester,  and  which 
during  the  next  week,  perhaps,  will  be  taken  up  again 


A  Sand -bank  and  a  Fight.  117 

almost  bodily  by  the  gale  and  deposited  in  another 
part  of  the  island.  It  is  a  huge  graveyard  with  shift- 
ing sepulchres,  for  even  the  dead  are  allowed  no  rest. 
Their  bones  are  exposed  by  every  storm,  and  hurried 
here  and  there  to  be  reburied  again  by  the  changing 
sands  when  the  gale  is  over. 

It  is  said  that  no  one  who  has  not  actually  witnessed 
a  storm  on  this  frightful  spot  can  even  imagine  its  hor- 
rors. The  mountainous  waves  come  rolling  over  the 
great  deep  with  the  steady  tread  of  an  army  corps  of 
giants  in  a  battle-charge,  their  white  crests  floating  in 
the  wind,  and  strike  this  thirty  miles  of  shore  with  such 
a  shock  that  the  whole  island  sensibly  vibrates  beneath 
one's  feet,  while  the  thunder  of  the  dashing  waters 
sends  dismay  to  the  stoutest  hearts.  The  whole 
southern  end  is  covered  with  timber,  which  has  either 
been  driven  thither  by  the  current  or  torn  from  wrecks 
and  hurled  ashore. 

The  Marquis  de  la  Roche  was  the  first  man  who 
visited  this  island  with  an  intention  to  colonize.  By 
the  orders  of  Henry  IV.,  he  sailed  from  France  in 
1598,  carrying  with  him  a  number  of  convicts.  It  was 
a  notable  custom  in  the  Old  World  to  ship  off  its  un- 
ruly elements,  and  to  sow  them  in  the  fields  of  the 
New  World  like  dragon's  teeth.  The  Marquis  in- 
tended at  first  to  land  his  precious  freight  of  rogues 
on  the  Nova  Scotia  coast,  and  to  start  a  nice  little 
piratical  village,  with  himself  as  the  head  of  the  Ring. 
By  some  unfortunate  chance,  however,  he  sighted  Sa- 
ble Island  on  his  way,  and  it  struck  him  that,  being 
a  somewhat  secluded  spot,  he  would  make  his  first  ex- 
periment there.      He   consequently   landed   his  forty 


1 1 8  Starboard  and  Port. 

thieves,  and  then  started  to  make  explorations  along 
the  coast  to  the  westward,  intending  to  give  his  little 
colony  a  call  on  his  way  back.  He  was  driven  by 
stress  of  weather,  and  compelled  to  return  to  France 
without  the  expected  visit. 

The  convicts  had  a  rough  time  of  it,  and  learned  by 
heart  that  passage  of  the  Scriptures  which  says  that 
the  way  of  the  trangressor  is  hard.  They  had  plenty 
of  time  for  meditation,  but  nothing  to  cat,  and  no  roof 
for  their  heads.  They  would  have  miserably  perished 
had  not  a  French  ship  run  on  the  sand-bar,  and  stuck 
fast  until  she  went  to  pieces.  They  found  on  board 
provisions  to  supply  their  wants  for  a  time,  and  some 
sheep,  which  they  killed,  as  they  were  pressed  by  hun- 
ger. From  the  torn  timbers  of  the  wreck  they  formed 
huts,  which  they  thatched  with  the  briers  and  grass  of 
the  island. 

Seven  years  after,  when  Chetodol,  the  pilot  of  De  la 
Roche,  was  sent  by  the  king  to  bring  them  back  to 
France,  only  twelve  were  found  alive.  They  were 
dressed  in  the  skins  of  the  seals  they  had  managed  to 
kill,  and  were  altogether  in  such  a  squalid  and  dis- 
tressing condition  that  the  royal  heart  was  moved  by 
their  story  of  privation  to  give  them  a  gratuity  of  fifty 
crowns  each.  The  pilot,  with  an  eye  to  business,  had 
kept  very  still  about  the  king's  orders,  and,  as  though 
he  had  only  chanced  on  shore,  promised  to  take  them 
aboard  his  vessel  if  they  would  give  him  all  the  skins 
they  had  collected,  which  they  willingly  agreed  to  do. 
They,  however,  discovered  the  fraud,  and  after  their 
return  to  France  instituted  against  him  a  lawsuit, 
which  ended  in  the  recovery  of  large  damages,  with 


A  Sand-baiik  and  a  Fight,  119 

which  they  were  enabled  to  enter  into  trade  with  the 
Indians. 

Some  time  afterward  the  Portuguese,  out  of  their 
pity  for  the  distresses  of  those  who  had  the  misfortune 
to  strike  keel  on  these  inhospitable  sands,  landed  a  lot 
of  calves,  which  in  a  few  years  stocked  the  island  ;  but, 
such  is  man's  unprincipled  love  of  gain,  a  horde  of  ad- 
venturers killed  them  all  off  for  the  sake  of  their  hides 
and  tallow ;  or,  rather,  for  three  generations  gangs 
of  men  visited  the  place,  summer  after  summer,  and 
hunted  until  the  last  beef  was  killed.  A  second  time 
the  island  was  stocked,  and  a  second  time  the  cattle 
were  all  destroyed.  This  excited  such  indignation  in 
the  hearts  of  all  generous  people  that  a  proclamation 
was  issued  by  Governor  Armstrong  at  Annapolis,  for- 
bidding these  predations  under  penalty  of  a  severe 
sentence,  which  caused  a  lull  in  the  robberies  for  a 
time.  At  length,  however,  the  old  habits  were  re- 
sumed, and  the  island  was  once  more  left  to  the  mercy 
of  marauders. 

Subsequently  were  landed  from  a  wreck  a  number 
of  ponies,  sturdy  little  fellows,  who  seemed  to  have  an 
appetite  for  sand  and  sea-tnatweed.  They  multiplied 
vigorously  for  a  great  many  years,  and  at  last  increased 
beyond  the  means  of  support.  Then,  again,  some  rab- 
bits and  some  hogs  drifted  ashore,  and  with  them  a 
few  score  of  rats  —  so  the  wrecked  mariner  could 
have  a  course  dinner  after  the  custom  of  his  native 
land.  If  a  Frenchman,  he  could  dine  off  a  Shetland 
pony,  with  tenderloin  steak  and  a  roast  rib;  if  a  China- 
man, and  he  wanted  a  good  bill  of  fare,  he  could  stew 
the  rats  to  his  heart's  content,  and  while  picking  the 


I20  Starboard  and  Port. 

juicy  bones  dream  of  the  flowing  pigtail  of  his  father 
in  Hong  Kong;  if  an  ICngHshman,  he  could  shoot  a 
young  steer,  and  make  plans  for  the  future  over  his 
slice  of  roast  beef. 

Since  the  beginning  of  this  century  a  superintendent 
with  several  employees  have  been  stationed  on  the  isl- 
and, supplied  with  sufficient  means  to  render  assistance, 
and  to  provide  comfortably  for  those  who  are  driven 
ashore.  A  government  vessel  visits  the  place  at 
stated  intervals,  to  keep  up  the  necessary  stock  of 
provisions,  clothing,  and  medicines,  and  to  take  off  the 
shipwrecked.  Still  it  is  not  the  place  that  would  be 
chosen  for  a  summer  residence,  but  only  a  wild,  weird, 
ghostly  sand-bank,  that  will  have  many  a  story  to  tell 
on  the  morning  of  the  resurrection. 

"  Now  then,"  said  the  pilot,  who  had  been  listening 
attentively  to  our  talk  of  Sable  Island,  and  who  had 
knowingly  nodded  assent  to  our  descriptions  of  the 
place,  "  as  soon  as  we  get  clear  of  Roaring  Bull  Rock, 
we  will  turn  the  yacht's  nose  to  the  norrard,  and  get 
into  still  water.     Halloo  !  there  comes  a  whiff*" 

We  had  been  lazily  lounging  along  for  such  a  length 
of  time  that  it  was  an  inexpressible  relief  to  see  the 
sail  fill,  and  feel  the  Nettie  heel  over.  Little  Canso 
Light  is  situated  on  an  exceedingly  picturesque  island, 
and  stands  out  against  the  sky  to  the  eastward,  as  one 
turns  toward  the  north,  with  its  alternating  zones  of 
black  and  white.  The  larger  craft  find  it  necessary  to 
keep  well  off  shore  in  passing  it,  because  of  the  reefs 
and  ledges  whose  ragged  edges  would  have  little  mercy 
on  a  vessel ;  but  our  best  course  was  inside  and  to  the 
westward,  and  we  soon  found  ourselves  as  by  magic  in 


A  Sand -bank  and  a  Ficrht.  121 


<b 


a  good  Ice,  and  keeping  company  with  a  score  or  two 
of  lumbermen,  fishing -vessels,  and  other  craft.  The 
entrance  to  the  harbor  of  Little  Canso  is  all  we  could 
wish,  while  the  exit  is  through  a  channel  so  narrow 
that  you  can  throw  a  biscuit  to  either  shore.  The  vil- 
lage consists  of  possibly  fifty  houses,  and  their  chief 
business  seems  to  be  the  supply  of  vessels  to  and  from 
the  fishing-grounds  of  the  Gulf.  To  eke  out  a  living 
beyond  that  afforded  by  the  barter  indicated — such  as 
the  sale  of  hob-nailed  boots  that  wear  out  in  a  fort- 
night, because  they  are  provided  in  unstinted  gen- 
erosity with  brown-paper  soles,  and  the  occasional  dis- 
posal of  woolen  shirts,  which  with  ordinary  use  will 
last  until  they  are  washed,  and  which  at  that  critical 
moment  emulate  the  example  of  the  parson's  "  one 
hoss  shay,"  and  simply  vanish  into  shreds — they  cure 
innumerable  cod-fish.  That  esculent  is  to  be  found  in 
quantity  in  every  spot  on  the  coast  where  two  or  three 
houses  assume  the  style  of  a  village.  It  greets  you  at 
every  anchorage,  and  on  the  whole  has  a  tendency  to 
effect  a  decline  in  your  appetite  for  a  breakfast  of  that 
generally  toothsome  material. 

We  gave  the  town  a  gun  as  we  passed,  by  way  of 
"  How  do  you  do,"  and  then  shot  like  an  arrow  through 
the  narrow  passage  and  out  into  the  still  and  delight- 
ful waters  of  Chedebucto  Bay.  The  dog  grew  restless 
the  moment  the  land  became  a  possibility  to  his  ca- 
nine consciousness  ;  and  when  it  came  up  within  fair 
swimming  distance,  he  put  his  paws  on  the  rail,  snuffed 
the  air  from  the  hills,  and  set  up  a  piteous  howl,  which 
made  us  feel  that  in  some  former  stage  of  his  existence 
he  had  been  a  fisherman,  or,  better  still,  a  shopkeeper, 

F 


122  Starboard  atid  Port. 

Avho,  as  a  penalty  for  his  iniquity,  had  been  doomed 
to  pass  ten  or  twelve  years  inside  the  ribs  of  a  quad- 
ruped. At  any  rate,  we  were  compelled  to  hold  him 
by  the  collar  to  keep  him  from  landing. 

We  sailed  across  Chedebucto  Bay,  seventeen  miles, 
in  just  an  hour  and  twenty  minutes.  Away  off  on  the 
right,  like  a  ghostly  shore,  rose  the  dim  outlines  of 
Cape  Breton,  while  on  the  left  was  Eddy  Point  Light, 
at  the  entrance  of  the  Big  Gut  of  Canso.  About  fif- 
teen miles  from  the  entrance  is  Port  Mulgrave,  where 
we  expected  letters,  and  at  half- past  seven  we  came 
up  to  the  wind  and  dropped  anchor. 

''  Down  with  the  boat,  boys,  and  we'll  soon  hear 
from  home." 

These  were  cheering  words,  and  in  ten  minutes  we 
were  climbing  up  the  ladder  on  the  wharf,  and  in  less 
time  than  it  takes  to  write  it  we  were  breaking  open 
sundry  envelopes,  and  getting  the  first  news  from 
those  we  had  left  behind. 

This  Gut  of  Canso  is  certainly  one  of  the  pleasantest 
spots  on  earth  in  summer.  We  had  long  ago  wearied 
of  the  clay  slates  and  other  metamorphic  rocks  of  Nova 
Scotia,  grand  in  their  barrenness,  and  w^ere  delighted 
with  the  refreshing  and  many-shaded  green  of  the 
richer  soil  to  the  north.  It  was  like  coming  suddenly 
from  stony  and  unproductive  fields  into  a  fragrant 
flower-garden. 

We  were  all  the  more  interested  in  Port  Mulgrave 
because  it  is  diagonally  opposite  Port  Hastings,  Avhich 
is  on  the  Cape  Breton  side  of  the  Gut,  and  the  termi- 
nus of  the  Atlantic  Cable,  and  the  beginning  of  the  lines 
of  the  Western  Telegraph.     An  incredible  number  of 


A  Sand -bank  and  a  Fight.  123 

operators  live  in  a  large  square  wooden  house  there, 
and  their  cunning  fingers  are  kept  constantly  busy 
transmitting  messages  to  the  East  and  West. 

We  saw  there  one  of  the  most  remarkable  dogs  I 
have  ever  heard  of.  He  must  not  be  forgotten  in  this 
narrative.  He  was  a  pure  Newfoundlander,  of  the 
short-haired  species.  The  long-haired  dogs  are  not 
looked  upon  with  much  favor  by  those  who  have  an 
eye  more  to  the  practical  value  than  to  the  beauty  of 
the  animal.  Nothing  certainly  is  more  dignified  or 
majestic  of  mien,  save  perhaps  the  St.  Bernard,  than 
the  shaggy,  full-grown,  and  well-bred  Newfoundland 
dog ;  but  he  is  almost  valueless  as  a  retriever,  since 
his  long  hair  holds  so  much  water  that  he  is  soon  tired 
out,  and  easily  catches  cold. 

We  were  all  standing  on  the  wharf  when  the  owner 
of  the  canine  came  up,  and  said  very  courteously, 

"  Did  you  ever  see  a  dog  dive  and  swim  under  water, 
sir?" 

"  Certainly  not,"  I  replied. 

With  that  introduction  to  a  very  curious  exhibition, 
he  whistled  Dick  to  his  side.  The  wharf  was  about 
six  feet  out  of  water,  and  the  water  was  about  seven 
feet  deep.  The  owner  seemed  to  be  on  very  intimate 
terms  with  the  animal,  saying  to  him, 

"  Now,  Dick,  I  want  you  to  do  your  level  best.  Do 
you  hear,  sir  ?" 

Dick  wagged  his  tail,  as  though  he  perfectly  compre- 
hended the  remark,  and  announced  that  he  was  ready 
for  the  ordeal  by  sundry  low  growls,  which  none  but 
his  master  could  interpret. 

Taking   a   flat    stone    in   his    hand,  the    gentleman 


124  Starboard  and  Port. 

showed  it  to  the  dog,  saying,  "  Now,  Dick,  I  want 
you  to  bring  that  up  from  the  bottom ;"  and  then 
gave  it  a  toss. 

Dick  watched  it  with  eager  eyes  as  it  fell  with  a 
splash,  and  sidled  its  way,  now  in  one  direction  and 
now  in  another,  to  the  bottom,  then  with  a  leap  he 
struck  the  water  just  above  where  the  stone  fell,  swam 
to  the  bottom,  grasped  it  in  his  teeth,  and  brought 
it  in  triumph  to  the  surface. 

"  That  'ere  dorg  is  mor'n  half  fish,"  was  the  criticism 
of  a  bystander;  and  this  so  perfectly  expressed  our 
own  convictions  that  we  silently  patted  Dick  on  the 
head,  and  gave  him  a  cracker  as  a  reward  of  merit. 

"  Now  then,  Nimrod,"  I  said  next  morning,  "  where 
can  we  get  some  salmon-fishing  ?" 

"  In  the  Margaree  River,"  he  promptly  replied.  "  I 
have  just  come  from  there,  and  had  very  good  luck.  I 
caught  several  fish  weighing  over  twenty  pounds,  and 
I  think  you  will  not  be  sorry  if  you  go  there." 

"  Margaree  River  ?  John,  get  out  the  chart,  and  we 
will  study  geography." 

"  I  say,  pilot,  is  there  enough  water  to  float  us  at 
the  mouth  of  the  Margaree  ?" 

"  No,  sir,  there's  just  water  enough  to  run  you  on  a 
bar.     It's  an  awful  harbor,  with  no  lee." 

"Yes — but  we  want  some  salmon." 

"  Well,  you  can  go  to  Port  Hood,  that's  mor'n  forty 
mile  to  the  suth'ard,  where  we  can  anchor,  and  you 
can  take  teams,  and  go  on  overland." 

That  struck  us  as  a  good  idea,  and  we  thought  it 
would  be  larks  to  take  a  trip  of  that  kind.  It  would 
vary  our  experience  in  a  charming  way. 


A  Sand- bank  and  a  Fight.  125 

Very  late  that  night  \vc  arrived  at  Port  Hood,  which 
is  not  a  good  place  to  enter  in  the  dark.  You  take 
your  course  mainly  by  soundings,  finding  the  channel, 
and  keeping  in  it,  if  you  can,  which  with  the  wind 
ahead  is  not  an  easy  thing  to  accomplish.  I  advise 
you,  if  you  ever  go  there,  to  go  in  the  daytime.  We 
ran  along  for  some  time  in  water  of  eleven  feet — we 
drew  eight  and  a  half — with  the  feeling  that  any  un- 
evenness  in  the  surface  of  the  bottom  would  bring  us 
up  all  standing.  Once  we  just  scraped.  We  could 
feel  the  grinding  of  the  keel,  but  the  yacht  had  head- 
way enough  to  carry  us  over  the  bar  into  deeper  wa- 
ter. We  came  to  anchor  at  ten  o'clock  under  Smith 
Island. 

The  next  day  was  absolutely  perfect.  The  sun  was 
warm  and  unclouded,  and  the  water  of  the  harbor  was 
as  smooth  as  glass.  Several  school  of  mackerel  were  flip- 
ping, one  not  ten  rods  off.  We  quickly  got  bait  ready, 
with  which  to  tole  them  alongside,  and  in  a  few  min- 
utes hundreds  and  even  thousands  were  playing  about 
the  vessel.  Our  jigs  were  out,  and  such  sport  as  we 
had  in  the  next  thirty  minutes  it  is  not  easy  to  de- 
scribe. The  beauty  of  mackerel  fishing  is  that  you 
neither  have  to  bait  your  hook  nor  take  your  fish  off. 
Brighten  your  jig  by  scraping  it  with  a  knife,  and  you 
have  done  enough  to  attract  the  greedy  eyes  of  this 
fine  fish.  Throw  your  bait  over,  and  then  your  jig 
into  the  midst  of  it,  and  before  you  know  it  a  fish  has 
the  hook  in  his  mouth.  Haul  in  with  a  rapid  but  a 
gentle  and  loving  hand,  for  the  fellow's  jaws  are  very 
tender,  and  when  on  board  give  your  line  a  sudden 
twitch,  and  the  fish  falls  off  and  leaves  you  ready  for 


126  Starboard  and  Port. 

the  next  trial.  So  the  fun  continues  as  long  as  the 
school  remains ;  but  this  is  mere  matter  of  chance,  for 
mackerel  are  shy  fish  withal,  and  any  sudden  shout, 
or  noise  of  any  kind,  and  you  hear  that  peculiar  swash 
which  informs  you  that  they  have  all  taken  the  alarm 
and  are  off.  We  caught  something  like  a  hundred  and 
twenty-five  in  the  thirty  minutes  in  which  our  visitors 
lingered  near  us,  and  at  the  end  of  the  thirty-first  min- 
ute the  water,  which  had  been  alive  with  them,  was  as 
quiet  as  though  there  were  not  a  mackerel  within  a 
thousand  miles. 

While  Ruloff  was  ashore  looking  up  a  team  to  carry 
us  to  the  Margaree,  which  we  afterward  learned  was 
forty-four  miles  distant,  I  went  down  to  my  books  to 
look  up  any  information  that  was  to  be  had  on  the 
subject  of  Cape  Breton. 

"  An  Impartial  Frenchman,"  as  he  calls  himself,  pub- 
lished in  1760,  about  the  time  the  American  colonies 
were  beginning  to  effervesce  under  the  subtle  influence 
of  that  yeast  of  progress  called  Liberty,  a  history  of 
the  island,  which  is  a  very  good  book  of  reference,  but 
a  terribly  dry  volume  to  read  on  a  summer's  day.  He 
talks  somewhat  statistically  about  what  he  calls  the 
"  Gulph  of  St.  Laurence,"  which  phrase  makes  one  feel 
that  the  river  is  the  throat  and  the  lakes  the  several 
stomachs  of  a  watery  giant,  who  takes  pleasure  in  that 
enormous  mouth  with  w^hich  at  one  gulp  he  disposes 
of  the  craft  that  confidingly  trust  to  his  protection. 
This  writer  may  have  been  exceedingly  impartial  for 
a  Frenchman,  but  his  statements  are  not  true  when 
looked  at  from  the  Anglo-Saxon  angle  of  vision.  The 
island,  he  tells  us,  is  "  covered  with  lakes,  rivulets,  and 


A  Sand -bank  and  a  Fight.  127 

bogs."  To  the  contrary,  wc  found  it,  after  our  long 
ride,  one  of  the  most  picturesque  of  places.  In  the 
extreme  north  there  are  a  few  settlements  only,  and 
the  original  woods  hold  sway,  divided  by  deep  rivers, 
which  are  well  stocked  with  salmon  and  various  kinds 
of  trout. 

Cape  Breton  is  a  triangular  piece  of  land,  so  situated 
that  it  becomes  the  natural  key  to  the  Gulf  of  St.  Law- 
rence. St.  Lawrence  Bay  is  the  apex  in  the  north  ; 
Madame  Island  forms  the  southwest  corner,  and  Scatari 
Island  the  southeast  corner.  Its  greatest  length  is 
about  one  hundred  miles  from  north  to  south,  and 
its  greatest  breadth  about  eighty  miles,  which  gives  an 
area,  exclusive  of  the  surface  of  the  lakes,  of  some- 
thing like  two  million  acres  for  the  woodsman's  axe 
and  the  plow  and  spade  of  the  farmer. 

The  coast  on  the  south  and  east  is  serrated,  afford- 
ing innumerable  harbors  to  the  captain  who  knows  the 
way  in,  and  an  equal  number  of  chances  for  shipwreck 
for  the  vessel  that  must  find  a  lee  whether  or  no.  The 
shore  is  very  bold  in  many  places,  huge  cliffs  of  solid 
rock  jutting  far  out  into  the  sea,  with  reefs  and  solitary 
rocks,  over  which  the  water  breaks  continually.  The 
island  is  said  to  be  very  rich  in  coal ;  and  I  learn  it  from 
good  authority  that,  between  Miray  Bay  and  the  en- 
trance to  the  Bras  d'or  Inlets,  there  are  one  hundred 
and  twenty  square  miles  of  land  containing  veins  of 
coal  that  can  be  worked  with  profit.  Fortunes  have 
already  been  made  in  this  enterprise,  but  there  are 
many  more  fortunes  of  equal  bulk  waiting  to  be  picked 
up  by  some  rash  and  daring  companies. 

The  island  was  discovered  by  Cabot,  and  was  either 


128  Starboard  and  Port. 

called  Breton  by  him,  In  honor  of  Britahi,  or  by  Vcrraz- 
zani,  a  subsequent  explorer  in  tlie  service  of  France, 
after  Brittany  in  his  native  land.  Its  first  inhabitants 
were  probably  Frenchmen,  who  used  to  come  from 
Newfoundland  and  Nova  Scotia  in  the  first  decade  of 
the  eighteenth  century,  and  live  in  huts  during  the 
summer  months,  when  they  pursued  the  trade  of 
codding ;  but  in  winter  it  was  given  over  to  the  ten- 
der mercies  of  the  fur-hunters  and  purchasers.  It  was 
then  a  howling  wilderness,  with  no  white  population 
any  where  except  on  the  coast.  The  interior  was  a 
terra  incognita  so  far  as  the  white  man  was  concerned, 
but  was  sparsely  inhabited  by  the  Mic-Macs,  who 
seem  to  have  spread  themselves  over  Prince  Ed- 
ward's, Newfoundland,  and  Cape  Breton  in  profuse 
abundance. 

The  French,  soon  after  their  settlement,  knowing 
that  both  England  and  the  colonies  situate  on  Massa- 
chusetts Bay  were  looking  at  the  island  with  longing 
and  envious  eyes,  began  the  fortification  of  Louisburg, 
on  the  southeast  coast.  Not  content  with  this,  they 
instigated  the  Indians  to  make  sundry  attacks  on  the 
English  settlers  who  had  pre-empted  the  shore  along 
the  Gut  of  Canso,  then  called  the  Gut  of  Fronfac,  until 
at  last  it  became  necessary  to  settle  the  question  of 
rightful  possession  by  the  stern  arbitrament  of  the 
sword.  The  government  of  Massachusetts  determined 
to  rout  the  French  from  Louisburg  at  any  cost,  and 
the  war  in  which  this  deed  of  prowess  was  accom- 
plished is  of  such  importance  that  I  shall  be  excused 
if  I  give  it  something  more  than  a  passing  notice. 

Louisburg  was  in  1745,  or  thereabouts,  the  strongest 


A  Sand' bank 'and  a  Fight.  129 

fortification  on  the  continent,  with  the  exception,  pos- 
sibly, of  Quebec.  It  consisted  of  a  rampart  of  stone, 
nearly  forty  feet  high,  and  two  miles  and  a  half  in  cir- 
cumference. It  had  also  a  ditch  of  nearly  the  same 
length,  and  eighty  feet  wide.  Thirty  million  livres 
had  been  expended  on  the  structure,  but,  like  some 
of  our  city  buildings,  and  perhaps  for  the  same  reason, 
it  had  never  been  completed. 

When  the  attack  was  determined  upon,  the  war  took 
upon  itself  the  semblance  of  a  religious  war.  It  was  a 
crusade  in  favor  of  the  cod-fishery  and  against  the  pa- 
pacy. No  wonder  that  New  England  was  all  aglow. 
It  required  only  two  months  to  enlist  3200  men  from 
Massachusetts,  500  from  Connecticut,  and  300  from 
New  Hampshire,  besides  300  from  Rhode  Island,  who 
were  not  in  the  fight.  It  was  a  volunteer  army,  made 
up  of  farmers  and  mechanics  ;  but  they  were  drilled 
by  common  interest  and  danger,  which  is  sometimes 
better  than  Hardee's  Tactics. 

The  flag  that  was  used  on  the  battle-field  was  pre- 
sented to  the  itinerant  preacher  George  Whitefield, 
who  roused  New  England  blood  to  the  boiling  point 
of  religious  enthusiasm  by  having  inscribed  upon  it 
the  motto,  "  Nil  desperandum  Christo  duce."  This 
reverend  gentleman  entered  into  the  spirit  of  the 
crusade  by  sermon  and  prayer,  and  scattered  his  peace 
principles  to  the  wind  until  Louisburg  fell,  when  he 
gathered  the  pieces  together  again,  and  went  on  his 
way  rejoicing. 

It  was  necessary  to  have  a  leader  for  an  expedition 
of  this  kind,  and  William  Pepperell,  of  Kittery,  Maine, 
was    chosen.     He  was   a    merchant,  extensively  con- 

F2 


1 30  Starboard  and  Port. 

cerncd  in  trade,  and  so  popular  that  for  thirty-two 
successive  years  he  was  elected  one  of  His  Majesty's 
council  for  the  province  of  Massachusetts.  He  had 
little  or  no  military  education,  except  that  which  had 
been  thrust  upon  him  by  constant  conflicts  with  neigh- 
boring Indians. 

On  the  4th  of  April  the  troops  embarked  for  Canso, 
where  they  arrived  in  safety,  after  having  suffered  from 
the  fogs  and  storms  of  the  Nova  Scotia  coast.  On  the 
13th  of  April  the  fleet,  augmented  by  the  command 
of  Commodore  Warren,  who  had  arrived  from  his  sta- 
tion in  the  West  Indies,  sailed  into  Chaparouge  Bay, 
and  landed  its  men,  who  at  once  drove  the  surprised 
Frenchmen  within  their  lines  of  fortification. 

By  the  7th  of  May  the  town  was  fairly  invested, 
and  a  summons  was  sent  to  Duchambon  to  surrender. 
It  was  a  pretty  tough  fight  from  that  time  until  the 
1 6th  of  June.  The  fortunes  of  the  armies  were  various. 
Unheard-of  exploits  were  accomplished  by  the  New- 
Englanders,  while  the  French  exhibited  both  tact  and 
courage.  Five  several  charges  were  made  on  the  for- 
tifications, none  of  which  were  successful,  though  in 
the  last  one  the  colonists  lost  189  men.  After  that, 
however,  Commodore  Warren  engaged,  and  after  a 
fearful  struggle  captured,  the  Vigilaiit,  a  seventy-four, 
and  560  soldiers,  which  spread  such  consternation 
among  the  Frenchmen  that  they  were  completely  de- 
moralized, and,  just  as  the  colonial  troops  were  gath- 
ering their  strength  to  make  a  decisive  onslaught, 
Duchambon  thought  the  matter  over  and  concluded 
to  surrender. 

The  flag  of  Whitefield  had  done  its  work,  and  w^as 


A  Sand -bank  and  a  FicrJit.  131 


^>' 


planted  victoriously  on  the  ramparts.  The  civilians 
had  shown  themselves  worthy  to  meet  well -trained 
soldiers,  and  to  wrest  the  day  from  their  grasp.  4130 
prisoners  were  taken,  of  which  number  650  were  vet- 
erans, and  1 3 10  belonged  to  the  militia.  As  Mr.  Mar- 
tin says  in  his  little  history  of  Nova  Scotia  and  Cape 
Breton,  "  Not  the  least  singular  event  connected  with 
this  gallant  circumstance  was  the  fact  that  the  plan 
for  the  reduction  of  this  regularly  constructed  fortress 
was  drawn  up  by  a  lawyer,  and  executed  by  a  body  of 
colonial  husbandmen  and  merchants." 

The  siege  of  Louisburg  lasted  forty-nine  days,  and  it 
must  be  confessed  that  the  result  would  have  been 
very  different  but  for  several  favoring  circumstances. 
In  the  first  place,  the  weather  was  not  only  unusually 
but  remarkably  fine.  If  it  had  rained,  the  little  army 
of  besiegers,  who  spent  a  great  part  of  their  time  work- 
ing like  oxen  to  drag  the  heavy  guns  across  the  bogs 
intervening  between  the  shore  and  the  fortifications, 
would  undoubtedly  have  suffered  greatly.  Not  only 
would  their  w^ork  have  been  impeded  and  indefinitely 
delayed,  but  sickness  would  have  inevitably  thinned 
their  ranks.  In  the  second  place,  the  troops  inside  the 
fortress  were  in  very  ill-humor,  even  to  the  verge  of  in- 
subordination. If  they  had  been  a  unit,  they  could 
have  made  successful  sorties  from  their  stronghold,  and 
put  to  rout  or  thrown  into  confusion  the  besiegers. 
In  the  third  place,  by  a  very  curious  coincidence,  nearly 
every  British  man-of-war  stationed  along  the  coast 
found  its  way  into  the  harbor. 

Thd  following  ships  of  the  line  and  frigates  arrived 
during  the  siege,  and  helped,  of  course,  to  completely 


132  Starboard  and  Port.  .. 

demoralize  the  enemy:  The  Supcrbc,  60  guns;  the  Lan- 
caster, df)\  the  Mcrviaid,  /^o\  the  prize  Vigilant,  6^\  the 
Princess  Mary,  60;  the  Hector,  40;  the  Cluster,  50;  the 
Canterbury,  60;  the  Sunderland,  60  ;  the  Lark,  40. 

There  were,  then,  more  than  five  hundred  guns  bear- 
ing on  the  noble  fortification,  and  it  is  Httle  wonder 
that  Duchambon's  heart  grew  depressed  to  the  point 
of  surrender  as  he  saw  this  formidable  fleet  come  in 
one  after  another,  and  anchor  within  short  range. 

After  the  memorable  capture,  General  Pepperell  gave 
a  dinner  to  which  Commodore  Warren  and  the  officers 
of  the  navy  were  especially  invited.  It  so  happened 
that  the  Rev.  Samuel  Moody,  chaplain  of  the  General's 
regiment,  was  present,  and  must  needs  be  asked  to 
pray  for  a  blessing.  This  gentleman  had  such  a  won- 
derful gift  for  long  prayers,  with  which  he  was  accus- 
tomed to  wear  out  the  patience  of  the  most  long-suf- 
fering, that  the  officers  were  in  a  quandary  for  fear  the 
soups  and  meats  would  all  be  cold  before  he  could  be 
induced  to  say  Amen.  He  was  one  of  those  clergy- 
men who  leave  their  amen  at  home,  and  so  continue 
indefinitely.  It  would  never  do  to  speak  to  him  on 
the  subject,  for  he  is  reported  as  being  as  irritable  and 
crusty  as  he  was  prolix.  The  diners -out,  however, 
were  surprised  and  delighted  when  the  chaplain,  who 
was  at  a  loss  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  rose  in  his 
place  and  delivered  the  following  model  prayer:  "Good 
Lord,  we  have  so  many  things  to  thank  thee  for  that 
time  will  be  infinitely  too  short  to  do  it ;  we  must, 
therefore,  leave  it  for  eternity.  Bless  our  food  and  fel- 
lowship on  this  joyful  occasion,  for  the  sake  of  Christ 
our  Lord.     Amen." 


A  Sand -bank  and  a  Fight.  133 

Several  important  consequences  followed  this  re- 
markable victory.  It  gave  to  England  the  key  to  the 
whole  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence  ;  it  broke  up  what  was  fast 
becoming  a  very  important  French  naval  station,  for 
in  the  November  preceding  the  capture  a  magnificent 
French  fleet,  consisting  of  three  huge  men-of-war,  six 
East  Indiamen,  nine  brigantines,  thirty-one  other  ships, 
and  two  schooners,  found  there  a  safe  anchorage,  and 
sailed  thence  for  purposes  of  trade  or  w^ar ;  and,  beyond 
all  this,  it  effectually  destroyed  the  hold  of  France  on 
the  Western  continent,  thus,  perhaps,  altering  the  his- 
tory of  all  coming  time. 

General  Pepperell  and  Commodore  Warren  were  made 
Baronets  of  Great  Britain,  the  troops  w^ent  home,  and 
another  bloody  page  was  inserted  between  the  covers 
of  that  book  which  records  the  progress  of  mankind 
toward  a  general  peace,  which  is  apparently  to  be 
reached  only  after  sprinkling  the  soil  of  the  planet 
with  the  gore  of  patriots. 

Cape  Breton  is  so  far  north  that  its  winters  are  te- 
diously long,  w^hile  its  summers  are  a  mere  flash  in  the 
pan.  Whatever  grows  must  take  time  by  the  forelock, 
or  the  first  frost  will  nip  it  in  the  bud.  Ambitious 
ci-ops  which  expect  to  be  garnered  must  get  under  full 
headway  by  the  middle  of  June,  and  take  advantage  of 
every  w^arm  day  in  July  and  August,  for  with  the  first 
of  September  the  nights  begin  to  grow  chilly,  and  after 
that  the  ground  becomes  stubborn,  and  refuses  to  give 
any  more  nourishment.  Few  flowers,  except  those  of 
the  hardier  sort,  shed  their  fragrance  on  the  air,  and 
fruits  of  nearly  all  kinds  positively  refuse  to  ripen. 

There  is  still  game  in  the  woods,  if  one  has  sufficient 


134  Starboard  and  Port. 

toughness  of  cuticle  to  defy  the  armies  of  insects. 
These  are,  however,  so  formidable  that  few  venture 
far  from  the  coast  until  snow  falls,  and  their  prowess 
is  so  great  that  their  depredations  are  recited  in 
heroic  verse.  We  heard  of  some  sailors  who,  being 
determined  on  fresh  meat,  made  a  journey  of  a  few 
miles  into  the  back  country  after  caribou.  They  were 
so  beset  by  an  immense  cloud  of  mosquitoes  that  they 
were  forced  to  beat  an  orderly  retreat.  Not  content 
with  driving  the  invaders  out  of  their  dominions,  the 
enemy,  by  a  masterly  flank  movement,  hemmed  them 
in  on  deck,  and  presented  their  little  bills  with  such 
effect  that  the  sailors  were  fairly  driven  below,  and 
compelled  to  batten  down  the  hatches.  The  mos- 
quitoes were  plucky  to  the  last,  for  they  drove  their 
bills  through  the  hatches,  and  the  sailors,  with  axes 
and  hammers,  clinched  them  on  the  inner  side  —  so 
the  story  runs — thus  proving  over  again  the  old  truism 
that  brains  are  superior  to  brute  force. 

Very  few  bears  are  to  be  seen,  but  caribou  are  plenty 
in  the  season.  They  are  best  captured  when  the  snow 
is  a  couple  of  feet  deep  in  the  woods.  The  hunters 
then  kill  them  by  the  score.  With  snow  -  shoes  they 
can  easily  tire  out  the  game,  which  sinks  at  every 
spring  to  its  shoulder.  Our  "  Impartial  Frenchman  " 
must  have  had  some  sport  of  this  kind  in  the  olden 
days,  for  he  tells  us  that  "  the  flesh  of  this  beast  is  eat- 
able; and,  indeed,  it  makes  as  good  soop  as  beef."  He 
describes  another  animal,  however,  which  no  hunter 
likes  to  meet,  and  his  imagination  or  his  fear  must 
have  supplied  him  with  facts,  for  the  wild-cat,  when 
full-grown   and  ferocious,  is  apt  to  make  one's  heart 


A  Sand -bank  and  a  Fight.  135 

palpitate  in  the  most  distressing  way.  I  have  killed 
almost  every  thing  in  the  way  of  game,  and  have  no 
more  of  the  ingredient  of  fear  in  my  composition  than 
the  average  hunter,  but  whenever  I  have  seen  a  wild- 
cat, especially  if  he  has  arrived  at  maturity,  and  I  have 
reason  to  think  his  claws  full-grown,  I  have  let  him 
alone.  He  is  a  creature  whose  intimacy  I  studiously 
avoid.  I  confess  I  am  afraid  of  him,  and  this  fear 
springs  from  an  experience  I  had  once,  when  I  was 
under  twenty.  I  was  out  after  bears,  and  had  suc- 
ceeded in  sending  my  leaden  compliments  in  the  shape 
of  a  ball  weighing  a  good  ounce  into  his  fore-shoulder, 
bringing  him  down,  and  giving  me  a  good  right  to  his 
pelt,  when  I  heard  a  rustle  in  a  tree  about  fifty  feet 
off.  I  looked  up  and  saw  those  two  yellow  sparkles 
which  make  one  feel  that  he  is  in  the  presence  of  the 
evil  one  himself.  A  huge  wild-cat  was  cozily  tucked 
up  on  one  of  the  higher  limbs  watching  the  scene  be- 
low, and  had  just  made  up  his  mind  to  have  a  tilt  with 
me.  At  that  moment  I  thanked  God  for  breech-load- 
ers, and  I  feel  reasonably  certain  that  but  for  that  fact 
the  people  would  have  been  spared  a  great  many  poor 
sermons.  Quicker  than  I  can  describe  it  I  took  two 
cartridges  from  my  pouch,  and  thrusting  one  into  the 
gun,  held  the  other  in  my  left  hand  for  an  emer- 
gency. If  ever  I  took  a  careful  as  well  as  a  rapid  aim, 
it  was  at  that  moment.  The  beast  was  on  his  haunch- 
es ;  he  showed  his  teeth,  and  began  to  move  his  fore- 
feet nervously,  pattering  them  down  on  the  limb,  as  is 
the  habit  of  the  brute  before  he  springs.  A  sharp  re- 
port, and  then,  hardly  looking  at  the  result,  I  reloaded. 
It  was  very  fortunate  that  I  did  so,  for  the  cat  had  been 


136  Starboard  and  Port, 

hit  in  the  abdomen  only,  and,  just  as  I  was  ready  for 
him,  he  made  a  jump  for  me,  landing  within  five  feet  of 
the  place  where  I  stood.  I  have  never  said  so  before, 
but  I  am  now  ready  to  confess  that  every  individual 
hair  of  my  head  stood  on  end,  and  I  wished  most 
heartily  that  I  hadn't  concluded  to  hunt  that  morning. 
Whether  it  was  that  my  first  bullet  began  to  produce 
its  effect,  or  whether  the  fall  was  greater  than  he  ex- 
pected, I  know  not,  but  the  cat  was  perhaps  ten  or 
fifteen  seconds  gathering  himself  up  and  getting  ready 
for  another  spring,  which  would  have  been  equivalent 
to  my  funeral,  and  that  saved  me.  I  put  the  second 
ball  into  him,  and  he  lay  still. 

Since  that  time  I  have  had  no  ambition  whatever  to 
engage  in  a  personal  encounter  with  wild-cats.  They 
shall  never  smell  powder  from  my  gun,  if  they  will  be 
kind  enough  to  keep  on  their  own  side  of  the  fence. 

My  impression  is  that  our  "  Impartial  Frenchman  " 
must  have  had  the  same  electrical  effect  produced  on 
his  capillaries,  for  he  writes  in  the  most  confused  way 
about  the  natural  history  of  this  quadruped.  He  says, 
"  The  quincajou  resembles  a  large  cat.  His  hair  is  of 
a  red  brown,  and  the  tail  so  very  long  that,  when  he 
turns  it  up,  it  makes  two  or  three  curls  on  his  back. 
This  is  his  offensive  weapon.  With  it  he  entwines  the 
poor  animal,  after  first  seizing  him  with  his  paws ;  then 
he  bites  him  in  the  neck  under  the  ear,  and  does  not 
let  go  his  hold  until  the  victim  is  dead."  If  that  sen- 
tence was  not  written  by  a  man  who  had  at  some  time 
in  his  life  been  pretty  badly  scared,  then  I  can  make  no 
diagnosis  of  the  diseased  condition  that  produced  it. 

Port  Hood  is  one  of  the  three  or  four  good  anchor- 


A  Sand -bank  and  a  Fight.  137 

ages  of  the  west  coast  of  Cape  Breton.  It  is  very 
beautifully  situated  on  a  kind  of  bluff,  and  its  few 
hundred  inhabitants  live  mostly  on  a  single  street  or 
road  that  runs  parallel  with  and  faces  the  water.  Im- 
mediately in  front  of  the  village  are  the  two  islands, 
Smith  and  Henry,  which  serve  as  a  breakwater  for  the 
harbor,  which  in  ordinary  blows  is  as  smooth  as  a  mill- 
pond.  The  people  arc  mostly  fishermen — that  is,  they 
depend  largely  for  support  on  the  products  of  the 
water,  though  they  nearly  all  have  little  farms  which 
they  work  at  odd  times.  The  women  are  often  seen 
in  the  fields  handling  the  rake  and  the  hoe  as  though 
they  were  accustomed  to  those  implements,  and  so  the 
grounds  are  kept  in  good  order  while  the  liege  lords 
hold  an  intermittent  correspondence  with  Neptune  by 
occasionally  "  dropping  a  line."  They  are  a  snugly 
housed,  and,  on  the  w^hole,  thrifty  people,  with  a  very 
large  proportion  of  Scotch  blood  in  their  veins,  and  are 
mostly  Catholics.  We  enjoyed  immensely  the  picture 
of  the  village  as  seen  from  the  yacht,  and  had  mor-e 
than  one  occasion  to  note  the  genial  hospitality,  the 
general  good-humor,  the  unaffected  modesty,  and  re- 
freshing simplicity  and  honesty  of  the  inhabitants. 


v) 


8  Starboa^'d  and  Port. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

SCENERY  AND   FLY -MAKING. 

"  A  brother  of  the  angle  must  always  be  sped 
With  three  black  palmers,  and  also  three  red ; 
And  all  made  with  hackles." 

Barker. 

"Enwrapt  I  gaze  with  strange  delight, 
While  consciousnesses,  not  to  be  disowned, 
Here  only  serve  a  feeling  to  invite 
That  lifts  the  spirit  to  a  calmer  height. 
And  makes  this  rural  stillness  more  profound." 

Wordsworth. 

'^--^ 

ULOFF  succeeded  in  getting  a  couple 

of  wagons,  the  owner  of  which  agreed 
to  land  us  on  the  banks  of  the  swift- 
flowing  Margaree  before  dark.  How  it 
was  to  be  done,  I  could  not  conjecture  ; 
but  at  that  time  I  was  not  acquainted  with  the  Cape 
Breton  horse  or  the  Cape  Breton  driver.  In  the  two- 
horse  team  we  put  most  of  our  innumerable  traps, 
such  as  blankets,  tents,  rods,  guns,  and  the  et  cetera  of 
a  fisherman's  outfit.  These  were  safely  and  snugly- 
bestowed  under  the  seats,  while  on  them  were  the  en- 
tire company,  except  Fletcher  and  myself,  who  took 
the  dog  with  us  in  a  single  team  drawn  by  a  very 
sorry-looking  horse. 


Scenery  and  FIy-77iakmg.  139 

"  Come,  gentlemen,  it  is  time  to  be  off,"  cried  the 
driver.     "Are  you  ready?" 

"  Ready  !"  was  the  response  from  both  wagons. 

"  Then  git  up !"  and  crack  went  the  whip,  and  away 
sped  the  horses,  so  suddenly  that  our  heads  were  driven 
back  from  our  shoulders  to  an  angle  of  forty-five  de- 
grees, and  we  involuntarily  cried,  "  Ugh  !"  in  the  most 
approved  Indian  fashion,  and  held  on  to  the  seats  with 
both  hands. 

Down  the  street  we  rushed,  raising  clouds  of  dust, 
and  then  beyond  the  confines  of  the  village,  when  we 
laid  our  course  for  Mabou,  seven  miles  distant.  It  was 
a  very  uneven  road,  in  that  it  went  up  hill  and  down, 
but  very  smooth,  in  that  it  was  well  made  and  had  no 
ruts.  The  views  we  had  of  the  island  landscapes  every 
now  and  then  made  me  wish  that  all  my  friends  and  a 
few  of  my  enemies  were  there  to  enjoy  them  ;  for  no 
man  can  hold  enmity  in  his  heart  when  he  is  gazing 
upon  such  ravishing  scenes.  At  one  time  we  drove  for 
miles  through  the  silent  forest,  the  only  sound  to  be 
heard  being  the  shrill  voice  of  the  little  chipmunk,  or 
the  dull  thud  of  the  woodpecker's  bill  on  the  bark  of 
a  tree.  The  only  game  we  saw  was  a  covey  or  two  of 
partridges — a  most  remarkable  bird  for  one  or  two  pe- 
culiarities— and  a  score  or  so  of  rabbits.  I  dislike  to 
fire  at  a  rabbit,  for,  unless  you  kill  him  outright,  he 
makes  you  feel  as  though  you  were  committing  a  mur- 
der. If  you  happen  to  simply  wound  him,  he  utters  a 
cry  not  unlike  that  of  a  sick  infant,  and  as  you  rap 
him  on  the  head  to  end  his  misery,  you  seem  to  your- 
self a  kind  of  ogre  who  is  gathering  children  for  an 
evening  meal.     The  partridge,  on  the  other  hand,  is  so 


140  Starboard  and  Port. 

thoroughly  stupid,  especially  in  places  where  he  is  not 
often  shot  at,  that  you  draw  a  bead  on  him  without 
the  slightest  remorse.  We  ran  across  half  a  dozen 
pecking  away  on  the  side  of  the  road,  and  fired  at  the 
farthest  one  first.  If  we  had  fired  at  the  first  one, 
some  of  the  shot  would  have  passed  over  him  and 
frightened  the  others.  They  do  not  care  for  noise,  and 
are  not  at  all  disturbed  unless  they  are  personally  in- 
terfered with ;  so  we  successively  shot  the  first,  then 
the  next,  then  the  next,  and  so  on,  until  we  got  to  the 
last  fellow,  who,  coming  to  the  conclusion  that  some- 
thing was  wrong,  put  for  the  underbrush,  where  it  was 
impossible  to  follow.  I  have  again  and  again  shot 
three  partridges  off  the  same  tree,  doing  it  in  the  most 
deliberate  manner.  If  you  kill  the  one  on  the  top- 
most branch,  he  will  in  dropping  frighten  the  others; 
but  if  you  shoot  the  one  nearest  the  ground  first,  you 
may  reload  at  your  leisure  and  bag  the  others. 

At  another  time  we  drove  along  a  high  ridge,  with  a 
long  stretch  of  land  lying  at  our  feet  on  the  right,  dot- 
ted here  and  there  with  a  farm-house,  while  the  broad, 
smooth,  deep-blue  waters  of  the  gulf  stretched  to  the 
horizon  on  the  left.  It  was  a  scene  for  a  painter,  and 
I  can  not  tell  you  how  sorry  I  felt  that  I  had  neglect- 
ed to  bring  with  me  a  photographic  apparatus  with 
which  to  reproduce  the  panorama  for  home  use  and 
pleasure.  It  is  so  easy  to  learn  enough  of  the  mystic 
art  of  photography  to  obtain  reminders  of  one's  jour- 
neyings,  that  the  camera  has  become  one  of  the  indis- 
pensables  of  a  traveler's  luggage. 

Mabou  is  a  lovely  creek,  making  inland  from  the 
coast    for   several   miles,  and  into  which  the    Mabou 


Scenery  and  Fly -making.  141 

River  pours  its  treasures.  There  were  no  trout  there, 
however,  since  the  thrifty  inhabitants  had  erected  just 
above  its  mouth  a  huge  saw-mill,  whose  dust  filled  the 
water  and  choked  the  fish.  And,  by  the  way,  these 
saw-mills  are  to  be  found  on  a  vast  number  of  streams, 
rendering  them  almost  entirely  useless  for  fishing  pur- 
poses. The  troublesome  and  often  fatal  saw-dust  gets 
into  the  gills  of  the  trout,  and  after  a  time  depopu- 
lates the  river.  We  saw  in  the  Mabou  many  a  shady 
nook  overhung  by  branches — a  capital  home  for  the 
trout — and  were  almost  inclined  to  joint  our  rods  and 
fix  our  reels  and  flies ;  but  on  the  bottom  lay  a  couple 
of  inches  of  sawdust,  and  we  were  informed  that  no 
fish  were  there. 

At  the  head  of  the  creek,  just  over  the  bridge,  on  the 
side  of  a  couple  of  steep  hills,  the  higher  piled  on  top 
of  the  lower,  sits  the  little  village  of  Mabou.  It  has 
forty  or  fifty  houses,  a  post-office,  a  blacksmith-shop,  a 
notion  store,  where  calico  and  molasses  are  sold  indis- 
criminately, but  no  church.  It  is  a  rather  neat,  but  an 
awfully  slow  place.  There  seems  to  be  plenty  of  oxy- 
gen in  the  air,  but  the  people  are  nevertheless  sluggish 
and  careless  to  the  last  degree.  They  gathered  about 
our  wagons  while  w^e  went  into  the  store  for  cheese, 
crackers,  and  poor  cigars,  but  were  not  lively  enough 
to  ask  questions.  A  Yankee  would  have  known  the 
biography  of  each  separate  individual  of  the  party  in 
five  minutes  ;  but  strangers  we  entered  the  village,  and 
strangers  we  left  it. 

By  this  time  the  dog — fearful  reminiscence — began 
to  set  up  sundry  bowlings,  which  rendered  our  trip  un- 
pleasant, and  made  even  life  itself  seem  less  desirable. 


142  Starboard  and  Port. 

He  would  thrust  his  head  over  the  dash-board,  and 
bark  at  those  in  the  head  wagon,  until  it  seemed  to  me 
that  a  fatal  bronchitis  must  make  short  work  with  him. 
But  his  throat  was  of  leather,  and  his  lungs  of  brass. 
He  barked,  howled,  moaned  incessantly,  what  for  I  did 
not  know,  nor  have  I  yet  found  out.  I  whipped  him 
and  coaxed  him  by  turns,  but  to  no  purpose.  It  seem- 
ed as  though  his  interior  were  a  cave  of  the  winds,  and 
that  his  mouth  was  a  trumpet  through  which  they  un- 
ceasingly surged.  At  last,  tired  out,  we  let  him  go,  and 
he  bolted  for  the  next  thirty  miles  up  hill  and  down, 
until  the  pads  on  his  fore-feet  were  worn  through ;  still, 
when  he  dropped  on  the  side  of  the  road  from  sheer 
exhaustion,  and  we  lifted  him  into  the  wagon  again,  he 
renewed  the  same  unnatural  bowlings,  which  made  us 
feel,  as  a  young  mother  does  when  her  baby  cries,  that 
there  must  be  a  pin  sticking  into  it  somewhere  which 
she  can  not  find. 

Beyond  Mabou  through  the  same  delightful  scenery 
we  passed,  with  here  a  view  of  the  land,  and  there  a 
refreshing  sight  of  the  sea,  until  we  reached  Broad 
Cove,  another  little  village  at  the  cross-roads,  and  so 
on  until  night  fell,  and  found  us  still  six  miles  from 
the  Margaree.  By  this  time  the  horses  were  tired,  and 
slackened  their  speed.  The  driver,  however,  cheered 
them  on  with  the  potent  encouragement  of  his  whip- 
lash, until  from  the  head  wagon  came  the  welcome 
words — 

"  Here  we  are,  and  there  is  the  river!" 

The  first  part  of  the  statement  we  readily  agreed  to, 
but  as  to  the  river,  nothing  could  be  seen  but  a  hazy 
fog,  of  serpentine  shape,  that  stretched  itself  along  the 
valley. 


Scenery  and  Fly- making.  143 

"  Under  that  fog  the  river,  and  in  that  river  the  sal- 
mon !"  cried  Bertric. 

We  were  too  tired  to  respond  to  the  sentiment  with 
klat ;  for  we  had  been  sitting  in  one  position,  and  that 
a  cramped  and  uncomfortable  one,  for  seven  hours,  had 
had  nothing  to  eat  but  hard  bread,  and  cheese  which 
would  have  passed  for  shoe-leather  if  it  had  been  tan- 
ned, and  felt  in  no  mood  to  be  hilarious. 

It  was  too  late  to  set  up  our  tents,  so  we  tried  for 
a  lodging  at  a  small  house  not  far  off. 

"  Could  you  take  us  in  for  the  night?"  inquired  Ru- 
lofif,  with  an  imploring  look  that  would  have  given  him 
a  verdict  before  any  jury. 

The  owner  of  the  house,  which  was  a  single-story 
affair,  looked  at  us,  seven  in  number,  and  said  slowly, 
but  with  ominous  decisiveness, 

''  Couldn't  think  of  it." 

"  But,  my  friend,  what  can  we  do  ?"  said  Algar. 

"  Don't  know,"  replied  the  proprietor  of  the  estate. 

"  Why  can't  you  take  us  in?"  meekly  asked  Stigand. 

"  'Cause  house  full  now ;  wife  sick ;  not  a  bed  in 
house  ;  only  floor  to  sleep  on,  and  can't  have  you  there. 
So  now." 

That  ended  the  matter  as  effectually  as  though  the 
Fates  had  spoken. 

"  I'll  find  you  a  place,"  said  Nimrod,  cheeringly. 
*'  Follow  me." 

So  we  trudged  behind  him  for  three  quarters  of  a 
mile,  and  at  last,  at  about  ten  o'clock,  saw  quite  a  mod- 
ern-looking house  on  the  hill-top.  A  knock  at  the 
door,  and  a  gruff  voice  asked, 

"  Wha'  ye  want  ?" 


144  Starboard  and  Port. 

"  Want  to  get  in,"  said  three  of  us  at  once,  by  a  kind 
of  instinct,  and  as  though  to  give  emphasis  to  the  re- 
quest. 

"  Weel,  wait  a  bit,  and  I'll  undo  the  door." 

The  door  was  unbarred,  and  a  hale,  hearty  old 
Scotchman  presented  himself,  and  bade  us  welcome  to 
his  homestead.  He  even  roused  the  family  from  their 
slumbers,  and  got  us  a  supper  of  bread  and  milk. 

When  the  time  came  to  retire — and  that  time  was 
immediately  after  supper — our  host  entered  the  room 
where  we  were  sitting,  and  said, 

*'  I  hae  ony  won  bed." 

"Well,  no  matter;  we'll  sleep  on  the  floor,"  we  said  ; 
and  with  that  we  spread  out  our  shawls  and  the  wolf- 
skin. 

"  I  understand  there  is  a  clergymon  among  ye,"  he 
continued. 

"  Humph  !"  I  said,  "  is  that  so?  Well,  he  is  no  bet- 
ter than  the  rest  of  us,  and  must  take  his  chances." 

"  Not  so  ;  an'  I  will  not  hear  ye  say  it,  young  mon," 
responded  our  host.  "  The  clergymon  must  hae  the 
bed." 

I  remonstrated,  but  to  no  purpose.  The  bed  I  must 
have,  and  the  bed  I  did  have.  There  was  a  short, 
sharp  controversy  over  the  matter,  which  ended,  as 
usual,  in  an  unconditional  surrender  on  my  part. 

"  Call  me  early,  mother,  dear,"  were  our  last  words 
uttered  ;  "  call  me  early,  for  we  want  a  salmon  for 
breakfast,"  and  then  we  fell  asleep. 

Oh !  the  delights  of  a  dreamless  sleep  after  a  weary 
day.  It  is  more  than  tired  nature's  sweet  restorer — it  is 
the  shadowy  and  silent  vale  through  which  one  passes 


Scenery  and  Fly-maJdng.  145 

to  a  re-creation  of  body  and  mind.  What  a  delicious 
sense  of  relief  creeps  over  you  as  you  throw  yourself 
full  length  on  the  couch,  and  relax  every  muscle,  giv- 
ing yourself  up  to  that  misty,  hazy  something  which 
covers  the  world,  and  makes  it  grow  dimmer  and  dim- 
mer to  the  sight,  until  it  is  lost  to  view  entirely. 

I  had  not  slept  five  minutes,  apparently,  before  I 
heard  the  hoarse  voice  of  Nimrod  in  my  ear: 

*'  Four  o'clock,  sir,  and  a  fine  morning." 

I  shook  myself  to  get  hold  of  my  whereabouts,  and 
then,  remembering  the  salmon  river,  dressed  as  quickly 
as  possible.  It  was  July,  but  there  was  thick  frost  on 
the  window-panes,  while  the  grass  looked  as  though  it 
had  been  snowing  in  the  night. 

Let  me  walk  slowly  through  my  narrative  now,  for 
there  is  an  exquisite  pleasure  connected  with  every  de- 
tail of  salmon-fishing.  It  is  unlike  any  thing  else  in 
the  world  ;  and  he  who  has  never  played  with  a  fifteen- 
pounder  of  this  species,  knowing  that  he  holds  his  prey 
only  by  the  uncertain  tenure  of  a  single  piece  of  silk- 
worm gut,  has  yet  to  enjoy  one  of  the  most  fascinating 
and  exciting  experiences  of  life. 

First,  my  rod.  It  has  three  joints,  and  is  seventeen 
feet  six  inches  and  a  half  long — of  course,  a  double- 
handed  rod.  In  all  the  seventeen  feet  and  six  inches 
there  is  no  one  spot  where  it  yields  any  more  than  it 
does  at  any  other  spot.  From  tip  to  butt  it  springs 
evenly.  The  first  joint  is  of  greenheart,  whose  fibres 
lie  side  by  side  in  the  snuggest  and  most  friendly  fash- 
ion ;  the  second  is  of  lance-wood,  and  the  third  of  split 
bamboo.  I  always  carry  a  spare  tip,  but  have  never 
had  occasion  to  use  it. 

G 


146  Starboard  and  Port. 

Secondly,  my  reel.  This  is  a  large-sized  click  reel, 
with  rubber  sides.  The  metal  sides  make  the  reel 
bungling  and  heavy.  The  click  is  not  very  strong,  so 
the  line  passes  over  it  with  perfect  freedom.  Some 
fishermen  prefer  the  multiplying  reel,  but  I  have  always 
found  it  a  nuisance,  and  very  treacherous.  It  will  do 
very  well  for  trout,  but  is  worse  than  useless  for  salm- 
on. When  the  fish  runs,  he  is  apt  to  overhaul  the 
line,  at  which  critical  moment  the  whole  thing  is  in  a 
snarl,  from  which  you  can  extricate  it,  to  be  sure,  if 
the  fish  will  wait  for  you  to  do  so ;  but,  unfortunately, 
salmon,  tides,  and  time  never  wait  for  any  man.  In  that 
single  moment  of  distress  the  fish  is  sure  to  make  a 
plunge,  and  carry  away  with  him  ten  or  a  dozen  fath- 
oms of  your  line.  The  simpler  your  gear  when  you 
are  playing  this  prince  of  all  the  finny  tribe  the  better. 
Your  chances  of  bringing  the  fish  to  gaff  depend  upon 
the  exquisite  harmony  between  rod,  line,  reel,  and  fish- 
erman. 

Thirdly,  my  line.  This  consists  of  about  one  hun- 
dred yards  of  oiled  silk.  The  best  lines  are  like  a 
whip-lash,  bulky  in  the  middle  and  tapering  toward 
each  end.  This  gives  you  weight  enough  to  enable 
you  to  throw  your  fly  into  a  pool  three  feet  in  width 
and  fifty  yards  away,  and  let  it  touch  the  water  as  gently 
as  though  a  moth  had  just  dropped  on  its  surface. 

Fourthly,  my  casting-line.  This  is  about  eight  feet 
long,  and  of  picked  gut.  The  first  three  feet,  those 
nearest  the  silk  line,  may  be  of  three  strands,  very 
carefully  twisted ;  the  next  three  feet  ought  to  be  of 
two  strands,  while  the  last  two  feet  should  be  of  stout 
single  gut. 


Scenery  and  Fly -making.  147 

Lastly,  my  flies.  Let  me  here  give  you  one  warn- 
ing :  never  make  your  own  flies.  It  is  cheaper  and 
better  to  buy  them — if  you  want  to  catch  fish.  Every 
fisherman  ought  to  know  enough  to  mend  a  fly  when 
it  gets  torn,  for  it  sometimes  happens  that  a  given 
combination  of  colors,  for  some  unknown  reason,  will 
be  very  killing,  while  another  fly,  to  all  appe^irance  very 
like  it,  will  fail  to  attract  a  fish  ;  but  it  is  not  profitable 
on  the  whole  to  manufacture  flies  yourself.  Every  one 
to  his  business,  and  let  the  fly-maker  have  a  fair  chance, 
is  my  motto. 

I  have  never  yet  been  able  to  tell  why  a  salmon, 
who  is  a  kind  of  chivalrous  gentleman,  a  man  of  brains 
among  fish,  should  be  deceived  and  taken  by  a  wretch- 
ed counterfeit  upon,  indeed  a  burlesque  of  nature,  called 
a  fly.  The  things  which  are  made  in  shops  look  no 
more  like  the  real  winged  insects  upon  which  the  fish 
feeds  than  a  rainbow  looks  like  a  dull  gray  cloud.  It 
is  pretty  evident  to  my  mind  that  the  success  of  an 
artificial  fly  does  not  depend  in  any  degree  upon  its 
having  the  general  contour  of  a  bug  or  natural  fly,  but 
upon  a  certain  attractive  combination  of  colors.  I  have 
caught  trout,  certainly,  and  they  are  younger  members 
of  the  salmon  family,  with  a  fly  which  any  living  thing 
would  blush  to  look  like.  The  shape  seems  to  have 
nothing  to  do  with  its  killing  quality,  and  the  colors 
used  may  not  be  likened  unto  any  thing  in  heaven 
above  or  the  earth  beneath.  If  you  can  catch  the 
fish's  eye,  you  catch  the  fish.  I  have  tried  the  vari- 
ous, and  in  some  cases  commendable  imitations  of  the 
house-fly  and  the  gadfly  and  the  moth  of  which  tlie 
market  is  full,  but  I  never  had  any  success  with  them. 


148  Starboard  and  Port, 

A  common  brown  hackle  is  worth  all  the  gutta-percha 
flies  that  were  ever  made.  Again,  in  July  and  August, 
when  the  black  or  white  moth  is  abundant,  I  have 
known  a  trout  to  persistently  refuse  the  same  colors  on 
my  hook,  though  I  dropped  the  fly  over  his  head  as 
noiselessly  as  a  shadow,  yet  a  few  minutes  after  he  has 
risen,  with  a  rush  that  took  him  clean  out  of  water,  at 
a  little  fiery-brown  feather,  the  like  of  which  he  never 
saw  before. 

A  young  fly-fisherman  is  almost  always  under  the 
delusion  that  he  must  needs  purchase  an  enormous  as- 
sortment of  flies,  of  all  sizes  and  colors,  and  fills  his 
book  with  a  lot  of  expensive  material  which  afterward 
proves  to  be  absolutely  useless.  Some  over-scientific 
sportsmen  have  laid  down  the  rule  that  a  different  fly 
is  necessary  for  every  season  of  the  year ;  but  good 
Isaak  Walton  has  disposed  of  this  nonsense  in  the  fol- 
lowing paragraph,  to  which  every  practical  fisherman 
will  give  his  assent : 

"  That  whereas  it  is  said  by  many  that  in  fly-fishing 
for  a  trout,  the  angler  must  observe  his  twelve  several 
flies  for  the  twelve  months  of  the  year ;  I  say,  he  that 
follows  that  rule,  shall  be  as  sure  to  catch  fish,  and  be 
as  wise,  as  he  that  makes  hay  by  the  fair  days  in  an 
Almanac,  and  no  surer." 

This  is  far  better  advice  than  the  following,  which  is 
as  poor  in  sense  as  in  poetical  mint : 

"  A  brown-red  fly  at  morning  gray, 
A  darker  dun  in  clearer  day ; 
When  summer  rains  have  swelled  the  flood, 
The  hackle  red  and  worm  are  good. 
At  eve,  when  twilight  shades  prevail, 
Try  the  hackle  white  and  snail." 


Scenery  mid  Fly -making,  149 

But  here  follow  two  lines,  the  admonition  in  which 
it  is  necessary  to  observe : 

"  Be  mindful  aye  your  fly  to  throw, 
Light  as  falls  the  flaky  snow." 

And  yet,  important  as  this  warning  is,  I  do  not  think 
it  necessary,  in  American  waters  at  least,  to  throw  with 
the  accuracy  which  is  demanded  by  another  sportsman 
in  these  words  :  "  No  one  is  fairly  entitled  to  be  called 
an  artist  who  can  not  readily  throw  his  fly  into  a  pint- 
pot  at  eighteen  yards."  In  order  to  be  an  accom- 
plished fisherman,  one  need  not  be  such  a  gifted  artist 
as  this,  though  he  ought  to  be  able  to  cast  his  trout-fly 
a  distance  of  twenty  yards  even  with  tolerable  accu- 
racy, and  to  throw  his  salmon-fly  well  across  a  stream 
that  is  twenty-five  or  thirty  yards  wide  in  a  calm  day. 
If  he  can  accomplish  either  of  these  exploits,  he  is 
ready  for  the  work. 

There  is  one  method  of  throwing  the  fly  to  which 
we  have  not  given  sufficient  attention,  however,  and 
the  value  of  which  we  have  not  properly  estimated. 
Nearly  all  our  streams  are  lined  with  underbrush,  and 
nothing  is  more  fretful  than  to  get  your  hook  and  cast- 
ing-line entangled  in  sundry  branches  just  over  the 
fish's  head.  You  may  pull,  but  to  no  purpose,  for  the 
point  of  the  hook  is  fast  in  the  wood ;  you  may  utter 
expletives  which  make  the  leaves  turn  yellow  as  in  au- 
tumn, but  these  have  no  effect  on  the  snarl.  There 
are  only  two  things  to  be  done — you  may  wade  across 
the  stream,  and  thus  frighten  the  fish  from  his  covert, 
or  you  may  part  your  line.  In  either  case  you  have 
suffered  a  misfortune,  and  lost  your  temper. 


150  Starboard  and  Port. 

What  is  Ccilled  the  undcrthrow  obviates  all  this.  If 
you  are  skilled  in  it,  you  can  throw  twenty  yards  right 
under  the  branches  of  overhanging  trees,  and  not  touch 
a  trap.  Pritchard,  who  is  an  adept  in  this  science, 
taught  me,  and  it  has  saved  me  many  a  moment  of  su- 
preme embarrassment.  You  cast  your  fly  ahead  of 
you,  say  five  or  eight  yards,  letting  it  rest  on  the  water, 
then  reeling  off  five  or  six  yards  more  of  slack  line,  by 
a  quick  motion  from  left  to  right  or  from  right  to  left, 
you  throw  the  slack  ahead  with  force  enough  to  draw 
the  fly  after  it,  and  it  lands  at  the  required  spot  with  a 
gentle  snap  like  that  of  a  whip-lash. 

As  for  the  time  when  to  fish,  there  is  but  one  rule, 
and  that  is  to  fish  whenever  you  feel  like  it.  There 
are  so  many  whims  about  cloudy  days  and  sunny  days 
and  windy  days,  that  if  you  attended  to  all  the  warn- 
ings that  have  been  given  you  would  never  bring  a 
fish  to  net. 

One  old  saw  runs  thus : 

"  When  the  wind  is  south, 
It  blows  your  bait  into  the  fish's  mouth ;" 

but  Solomon,  who  himself  indulged  in  the  innocent 
sport  of  angling,  says  of  another  pursuit,  "  He  that 
considers  the  wind  shall  never  sow,"  intimating  pretty 
plainly  that  if  you  want  to  sow,  and  have  any  seed  to 
sow  withal,  you  may  sow  it  and  be  done  with  it,  whether 
the  wind  blows  or  not.  The  same  is  true  of  angling. 
Fish  are  certainly  capricious,  but  there  is  no  rule  by 
which  they  are  whimsical,  and  the  only  sensible  thing 
to  do  is  to  go  a-fishing  whenever  you  wish  to,  and  take 
the  luck  that  comes  in  a  philosophical  spirit. 


Scenery  and  Fly -making,  151 

Now  that  I  have  quoted  Scripture,  I  ought  to  be 
allowed  to  say  that  the  pleasures  of  angling  were  not 
entirely  unknown  to  the  sages  and  prophets.  Solomon 
says  that  "  his  beloved  had  eyes  like  the  fish-pools  of 
Heshbon,"  which  shows  plainly  enough  that  he  had 
visited  those  pools.  It  is  less  than  probable  that  he 
visited  them  simply  to  note  their  natural  beauty,  or  to 
watch  the  finny  tribe  at  their  play,  and  much  more 
than  probable  that  he  was  accustomed  to  drop  a  line 
and  try  his  luck. 

It  is  evident  that  in  the  earliest  times  the  various 
means  of  catching  fish  which  are  in  use  to-day  were 
known.  Job  asks,  "  Canst  thou  fill  his  skin  with  barbed 
irons?  or  his  head  with  fish -spears?"  Those  same 
barbed  irons  and  fish-spears  are  to  be  found  on  every 
fisherman  that  sails  out  of  Gloucester  Harbor,  and  they 
are  used  for  the  same  purpose  and  in  the  same  way  as 
in  the  olden  time,  and,  if  I  mistake  not,  I  have  lately 
seen  harpoons,  with  which  fin-backs  and  sword-fish  are 
taken,  old-fashioned  enough  to  have  been  the  property 
of  some  sturdy  Hebrew  of  three  thousand  years  ago. 

Isaiah  says,  "  The  fishers  shall  mourn,  and  all  they 
that  cast  angle  upon  the  brooks  shall  lament,  and  they 
that  spread  nets  upon  the  waters  shall  languish."  Ha- 
bakkuk  adds,  "  They  take  up  all  of  them  with  the 
angle,  they  catch  them  in  their  net,  and  gather  them 
in  their  drag." 

But  to  go  back  to  fly-making,  for  I  take  it  that  the 
science  of  angling  needs  no  defense  from  me.  Some 
of  the  best  and  greatest  men  who  have  ever  lived  have 
been  fishermen,  and  those  who  were  not  would  have 
been  had  the  opportunity  presented.     The  angler's  oc- 


152  Starboard  and  Port. 

cupation  induces  introspection,  reverie,  and  reflection. 
He  gets  en  rapport  with  nature,  and  becomes  refreshed 
in  his  inner  being.  The  true  angler  is  always  an  hon- 
est, courteous,  mild-mannered  gentleman.  He  sits  on 
the  banks  of  the  stream  so  quietly,  and  so  delightfully 
absorbed  in  contemplation,  that  the  friendly  spider 
mistakes  his  broad  shoulders  for  a  brown  rock,  and 
stretches  his  web  from  it  to  the  nearest  tree.  It  is 
certainly  a  life  of  innocent  pleasure  without  an  atom 
of  alloy. 

Still,  never  make  your  own  flies.  I  have  had  a  deal 
of  experience  in  that  direction,  which  has  taught  me  to 
pay  Pritchard  four  dollars  a  dozen  rather  than  make 
them  at  a  cost  of  fifty  cents.  Some  time  ago  I  was  an 
enthusiast  about  home-made  flies,  but  my  enthusiasm 
has  oozed  away,  and  I  have  no  wish  to  recall  it. 

I  literally  followed  the  advice  of  Gay : 

"To  frame  the  little  animal,  provide 
All  the  gay  hues  that  wait  on  female  pride ; 
Let  nature  guide  thee.     Sometimes,  golden  wire 
The  shining  bellies  of  the  fly  require  ; 
The  peacock's  plumes  thy  tackle  must  not  fail, 
Nor  the  dear  purchase  of  the  sable's  tail. 
Each  gaudy  bird  some  slender  tribute  brings, 
And  lends  the  growing  insect  proper  wings : 
Silks  of  all  colors  must  their  aid  impart, 
And  every  fur  promote  the  fisher's  art." 

With  all  these  several  materials,  and  many  more, 
had  I  provided  myself,  and  with  a  very  hopeful  heart  I 
set  about  the  task.  I  soon  found,  however,  that  my 
fingers  were  too  large  for  the  business,  and  that  the 
cunning  skill,  which  deftly  joins  part  to  part  and  leaves 
no  ragged  chasm  between,  was  wanting.     I  must  con- 


Scenery  and  Fly -making.  153 

fess  that  my  first  attempt  was  so  far  distant  from  my 
ideal  that  the  length  of  the  journey  to  perfection  in 
the  art  was  exceedingly  discouraging.  The  dubbing 
of  hog's  hair  would  not  lie  smooth  ;  the  tinsel,  whose 
glittering  spirals  are  supposed  to  be  especially  fascinat- 
ing, would  insist  upon  uncoiling  itself  just  as  I  was 
about  to  fasten  it  ;  the  tail  would  get  awry,  or  come 
out  altogether  and  drop  on  the  floor  ;  the  head  was  a 
bulbous  nodule  of  worsted  which  was  unpleasantly  sug- 
gestive of  hydrocephalus ;  and  the  wings  —  ah!  they 
were  my  despair ;  they  would  not  stay  where  I  put 
them,  and  my  fingers  were  so  clumsy  that  the  little  fly 
seemed  like  a  cambric  needle  in  the  grip  of  a  black- 
smith's vise.  However,  I  persevered  until  it  was  fin- 
ished, and  then,  holding  it  up  timidly  for  the  exami- 
nation and  criticism  of  a  friend  who  was  reading  at 
my  side,  I  asked, 

''  How  do  you  like  it?" 

"  Broiled  ;  how  do  you  ?"  the  hard-hearted  fellow  re- 
plied, without  lifting  his  head  from  the  book. 

"  But  I  have  finished  it,  and  want  your  opinion,"  I 
persisted. 

"  I  never  did  like  fly-time,"  he  responded,  without 
deigning  to  give  me  a  look. 

Not  to  be  put  off  in  this  way,  I  insisted  upon  an  ex- 
pression of  opinion  by  putting  the  fly  on  his  book,  and 
saying, 

"There,  don't  you  think  it  pretty?" 

"Yes — pretty  ugly,"  was  the  only  response. 

"  Don't  you  think  it  well  made  for  a  first  attempt  ?" 
I  continued. 

"  Oh  yes,"  he  replied,  not  much  interested  in  the 
G2   . 


154  Starboard  and  Port. 

subject ;  "  it  is  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made.  What 
can  I  say  more  ?" 

"  But,  really  now,  be  serious  for  a  moment,  just  for 
the  sake  of  the  surprise  you  wall  enjoy,  and  tell  me 
what  you  think  of  it  ?"  I  continued. 

"  Well,"  he  answered,  "  I  think  it  looks  as  though  it 
had  been  struck  by  a  rainbow,  and  a  piece  of  every 
color  and  shade  had  stuck  to  it." 

"Don't  you  think  a  trout  would  take  it?"  I  said, 
trying  to  get  some  little  consolation  from  him. 

"  Oh,  he  might,  if  he  was  very  hungry ;  but  I 
shouldn't  want  to  eat  that  kind  of  a  fish." 

"  Dear  me  !"  I  moaned  disconsolately,  "  what  shall 
I  do  with  it?  I  don't  think  I  can  make  any  thing 
better." 

He  replied,  "  Buy  your  flies,  and  put  that  into  a 
museum  of  monstrosities." 

The  advice  was  good,  and  I  give  it  to  you.  Learn 
to  mend  your  flies,  but  never  take  the  trouble  to  make 
them.  I  have  a  couple  of  hundred  which  I  have  manu- 
factured during  the  last  few  years,  but  when  I  go  into 
the  woods  I  always  lift  out  the  tray  that  contains 
them  with  a  sigh,  and  then  put  a  couple  of  dozen  of 
Pritchard's  best  into  my  book  for  use. 


A  Salmon  and  a  Fox.  155 


CHAPTER  IX. 

A    SALMON    AND    A    FOX. 

"A  whirr  !  a  whirr  I  the  salmon's  out 
Far  on  the  rushing  river. 
Hark  to  the  music  of  the  reel ! 

The  fitful  and  the  grating ; 
It  pants  along  the  breathless  wheel, 
Now  hurried,  now  abating." 

Stoddart. 

"  The  little  foxes  that  spoil  the  vines." 

Solomon. 


S  HE  best  covering  for  the  feet  on  a 
fishing  expedition  is  a  pair  of  simple 
pegged  Congress  boots.  They  sup- 
port the  ankles  when  walking,  and 
are  more  comfortable  than  any  thing 
^"^^^^^  '  else  you  can  wear.  Bertric  boasted  a 
pair  of  patent  rubber  boots  reaching  up  to  the  waist. 
They  were  not  very  heavy — on  the  contrary,  they  were 
wonderfully  light ;  but  if  you  happen,  as  you  are  likely 
to  do,  to  step  on  a  sharp  stone  or  hit  against  a  snag 
half-way  up  the  leg,  you  are  compelled  thereafter  to 
carry  about  with  you  a  gallon  or  two  of  water ;  and  if, 
disgusted  at  this  proceeding,  you  lie  down  on  your 
back  and  lift  your  leg,  under  the  delusion  that  the 
water  will  run  out,  the  precious  liquid,  which  has  a 
way  of  doing  things  all  its  own,  will  pour  itself  down 


156  starboard  and  Port. 

your  back  and  drench  you.  There  is  nothing  neater, 
or  on  the  whole  more  comfortable,  than  Congress 
shoes.  To  be  sure,  you  get  your  feet  wet,  but  no  man 
has  any  right  to  claim  the  honorable  distinction  of 
fisherman  who  is  afraid  of  wet  feet. 

Now  then,  we  are  all  ready  at  4.15  A.M.  to  start. 
There  is  a  chill  in  the  air  which  reminds  you  of  No- 
vember, and  the  grass  is  as  wet  as  though  the  flood 
had  just  ebbed ;  but  these  are  slight  drawbacks.  You 
munch  your  cracker  and  cheese  as  you  wind  your  way 
to  the  banks  of  the  river  half  a  mile  off,  and  are  su- 
premely happy.  The  birds  twitter  their  matins,  the 
sun  is  just  climbing  the  hill,  the  farmers  are  all  asleep, 
and  you  are  whistling  or  singing. 

Here  at  last  lies  the  noble  Margarce  at  our  feet.  It 
is  altogether  a  remarkable  stream,  and  one  of  the  few 
in  which  every  body  has  a  right  to  fish.  Last  month 
half  a  dozen  English  officers  encamped  in  that  hut  op- 
posite, and  in  a  week  killed  fifteen  salmon  ranging 
from  ten  pounds  to  twenty-one.  Two  others  are  there 
now ;  but  pray  don't  speak  to  them,  except  to  say  Good- 
morning,  for  they  will  surely  tell  you  there  are  no  fish 
here.  Their  motto  is,  two  lines  are  better  than  four. 
How  beautifully  the  river  winds  among  the  hills!  but 
just  where  we  stand,  and  for  a  couple  of  miles,  there  is 
not  even  a  bush  on  the  bank.  No  fear  of  tangling  your 
line  here.  The  stream  is  about  seventy-five  feet  wide, 
and  that  enables  us  to  stand  on  either  bank  and  whip 
every  pool. 

"  Well,  Nimrod,  what  is  the  prospect  ?" 

"  Good,  sir ;  good,  sir ;  I  have  caught  salmon  in  this 
river  weighing  forty  pound  with  a  single  gut" — (that 


A  Salmon  and  a  Fox.  157 

I  suspect  is  not  true) — "  and  I  hope  you  may  have  as 
good  luck." 

**  Are  there  any  trout  here  ?" 

"  Trout  ?  The  only  fear  is  that  they  will  snap  at 
your  fly,  and  not  give  the  salmon  a  fair  chance." 

(That,  too,  I  suspected  to  be  an  exaggeration.) 

'*  Good  enough  !  Just  put  my  rod  together.  Here, 
Stigand,  give  me  that  reel,  will  you,  and  we  will  see 
whether  by  any  mischance  Nimrod  can  tell  the 
truth." 

"  But  there  is  not  a  pool  in  sight  —  it  is  all  shoal 
water,"  said  Bertric. 

.  "  Never  you  mind,"  responded  Nimrod,  somewhat 
touched ;  "  there  are  pools  enough  within  twenty  rods 
of  us." 

The  rod  is  all  right,  the  reel  is  firmly  fixed,  the  cast- 
ing-line is  a  good  one,  the  tail  fly  is  white  and  brown, 
and  there  is  nothing  left  except  to  find  the  fish. 

"  Here  is  a  trout  !"  cried  Bertric,  as  he  killed  and 
brought  to  creel  a  speckled  beauty  of  about  a  pound 
weight. 

"  And  here's  another !"  cried  Stigand,  as  he  made 
fast  to  a  plucky  fellow  somewhat  larger. 

"  Let  out  your  line  and  play  him  !"  yelled  Nimrod, 
"  or  you  will  lose  him.  That's  a  white  trout  just  from 
salt  water.     Handle  him  tenderly." 

The  warning  was  well-timed.  The  fish  ran  out  nearly 
twenty  yards  of  line,  and  then  gave  a  leap  about  three 
feet  from  the  water,  which  tumbled  from  his  silver  sides 
in  glistening  drops.  He  was  a  noble  fellow,  and  not 
until  after  ten  minutes  of  skillful  and  patient  play  was 
he  landed.     He  weighed  a  pound  and  a  half. 


158  Starboard  and  Port. 

"  This  is  rich  sport !"  cried  liertric,  who  jerked  a  little 
too  quickly,  and  drew  the  fly  from  his  second  fish's 
jaws — "  Ah  !  he's  gone.  Well,  my  beauty,  just  strike 
that  fly  once  more,  and  I  will  give  you  a  new  sensa- 
tion." 

While  the  gentlemen  were  filling  their  creels  with 
white  and  speckled  trout,  I  went  on  about  ten  rods  to 
watch  Flctch  catch  his  first  fish  with  a  fly.  I  envied 
the  boy  the  rich  experience  which  he  was  about  to  en- 
joy. He  had  carefully  practiced  the  throw,  and  was 
ready  for  the  capture. 

"  There's  a  good  place,  Fletch  " — the  salmon  grounds 
were  farther  on.  "  Just  drop  your  hackle  over  there, 
and  see  what  will  come  of  it." 

The  feather  had  no  sooner  touched  the  water  than  I 
saw  a  swirl,  then  heard  a  splash,  and  the  fish  was  gone. 
He  had  overleaped.  It  would  have  done  your  heart 
good  to  see  Fletch's  eyes.  They  fairly  stood  out  from 
his  head,  and  flashed  like  two  camp-fires.  His  cheeks 
were  flushed,  and  altogether  he  looked  remarkably 
handsome  as  he  stood  there  intensely  excited,  disap- 
pointed, and  chagrined. 

"  No  matter,  try  once  more,"  I  said.  But  the  wary 
fish  wouldn't  bite.  He  had  seen  the  line,  and  quietly 
retired. 

"  Hold  a  minute,  and  we'll  fix  him,"  said  Nimrod. 
"  Let  him  rest  for  a  while,  and  I  will  change  your 
fly." 

The  book  was  forthcoming,  and  a  fly  with  red  body 
and  tinsel  and  dark  wings  was  tied  on. 

"  There,  throw  carefully ;  let  nothing  but  the  fly 
touch  the  water,  and  you'll  get  him." 


A  Salmon  and  a  Pox.  159 

Sure  enough.  The  feathered  deceit  had  no  sooner 
touched  the  surface  than  there  came  another  rush,  and 
this  time  with  better  aim,  for  the  hook  was  fast  in  the 
trout's  mouth.  He  broke  at  once  for  deeper  water 
up  stream.  Whiz  !  went  the  hne  off  the  reel,  while 
Fletch,  keeping  a  taut  hold  on  him,  followed  as  fast 
as  he  could  scamper.  Once  he  tumbled  into  a  hole 
and  fell  his  length,  but  he  soon  scrambled  to  his  feet 
again,  and  found  to  his  great  joy  that  the  fish  was  still 
safe. 

"  Look  out  for  that  log  ;  if  he  gets  under  it,  then 
good-bye." 

"  Oh!  I  can't  lose  him — I  mustn't  lose  him — I  won't 
lose  him,"  Fletch  jerked  out  as  he  hurried  on.  With 
a  slight  strain  on  the  line,  the  trout  was  guided  into 
safe  water,  and  after  a  while  brought  to  land.  He 
fought  well  and  long,  and  was  a  prize  worth  having. 

As  I  wandered  off  with  Nimrod  to  the  salmon 
grounds,  I  could  not  help  regretting  that  the  boy  in 
all  his  life  might  not  have  just  such  another  experi- 
ence, and  I  envy  any  man  the  delicious  excitement 
of  catching  his  first  heavy  trout. 

After  we  had  followed  the  bank  for  a  while  I  said 
to  Nimrod, 

*'  Look  over  there,  man.  Isn't  that  a  princely  palace 
for  a  fish  to  live  in  ?"  It  was  a  pool  about  seven  feet 
deep,  and  nearly  twelve  feet  across.  "  Now,  if  there 
are  any  salmon  in  this  river,  one  of  them  is  sure  to  be 
in  that  spot." 

I  threw  my  line  with  all  the  skill  I  possessed,  but 
there  was  no  rise.  This  was  a  terrible  disappoint- 
ment, and  a  greater  damper  than  I  cared  to  confess. 


i6o  Starboard  and  Port. 

because,  if  a  salmon  takes  at  all,  he  generally  takes  at 
once.  I  threw  again,  and  this  time  hauled  out  a  little 
speckled  trout  weighing  about  six  ounces. 

"  Throw  him  back,  and  let  him  grow,"  I  said  to  Nim- 
rod,  as  he  unhooked  him. 

"  No  need  of  a  gaff  for  him,"  he  replied,  as  he  threw 
him  fifty  feet  up  stream. 

That  was  a  specimen  of  my  luck  for  the  next  hour. 
I  whipped  pool  after  pool,  in  each  of  which  a  salmon 
would  have  delighted  to  dwell,  but  with  no  success. 
A  few  insignificant  trout  were  the  only  reward  of  my 
pains  and  labors  —  for  it  is  no  small  task  to  wield  a 
long  salmon  rod  for  that  length  of  time ;  it  is  far  more 
tiresome  than  one  suspects  who  is  not  accustomed  to 
the  work.  I  lay  down  on  some  logs  to  rest  for  a  bit, 
while  Nimrod  went  ahead  to  prospect.  I  had  been 
lying  there  perhaps  ten  minutes  when  I  heard  him 
crying  out, 

'■'■  Come  here  !  come  here  !" 

I  was  on  my  feet  in  an  instant,  and  in  a  few  seconds 
more  was  at  his  side. 

"  Well,  what  is  it  ?"• 

'*  I  saw  over  there,  near  the  bank,  the  swirl  of  a  big 
fellow." 

"  Nimrod,  you  are  fibbing,  as  usual,"  I  said.  "You 
always  see  swirls  when  I  am  not  round,  and  you  catch 
your  biggest  fish  when  you  talk  about  them.  I  don't 
believe  a  salmon  has  flipped  his  tail  in  these  waters 
for  thirty  days.  There's  my  rod ;  let  me  see  you 
catch  this  ghostly  monster  of  your  imagination." 

He  took  the  rod,  and  threw  the  fly  with  a  masterly 
hand.     It  touched  the  water ;  and  then  I  had  a  feeling 


A  Salmon  and  a  Fox.  i6i 

that  the  stream  was  suddenly  boiling,  or  that  an  infant 
earthquake  was  playing  with  the  bottom.  A  splendid 
fellow,  weighing  fully  ten  or  twelve  pounds,  threw  him- 
self half  out  of  water,  and  unfortunately  fell  on  the  fly. 
No  man  could  catch  him  under  these  circumstances, 
but  the  hook  just  pricked  him  as  Nimrod  jerked  the 
line  in — O,  inc  miscruni,  but  it  was  a  sad  sight,  and  a 
great  calamity. 

Nimrod  stood  looking  at  me  with  a  sadness  in  his 
face  which  well  becomes  a  fisherman  under  such  trying 
circumstances,  and  for  a  while  uttered  no  word.  It  was 
worse  than  useless  to  try  again.  That  fish  had  learned 
too  much,  and  would  keep  very  still  and  be  very  wary 
for  the  rest  of  the  day. 

"Did  you  ever?"  slowly  muttered  Nimrod,  with  a 
long,  mournful  interval  between  the  words. 

"  No,  I  never,"  I  replied,  in  a  tone  equally  dolorous ; 
and  that  is  the  entire  conversation  we  had  on  the 
subject. 

Matters  were  not  to  end  thus,  however.  About  an 
hour  afterward  I  saw  on  a  pool  just  ahead  of  me  some 
wrinkles  which  made  my  cheeks  turn  red  and  my  heart 
bound  with  hope.  I  crept  as  cautiously  as  I  could  to 
the  proper  point,  looked  at  my  fly,  saw  that  the  line 
was  clear,  and  then  made  a  cast.  I  really  believe  that 
fly  never  touched  water,  for  the  hungry  fish  took  him 
on  the  wing.  A  quick  jerk,  and  the  hook  was  well 
fastened  in  his  jaws.     Now  for  a  tussle  ! 

I  think  the  fish  was  taken  by  surprise.  He  lay  per- 
fectly still  in  the  water  long  enough  for  me  to  reel  in 
the  slack,  and  feel  of  him,  when,  comprehending  the 
situation,  he  took  for  his  motto,  "  Liberty  or  Death," 


1 62  Starboard  and  Port. 

and  made  a  bold  strike  for  the  former.  He  was  head- 
ed up  stream,  and  the  way  he  traveled  was  a  marvel. 
The  line  went  whistling  from  the  reel,  until  there  were 
only  ten  or  fifteen  yards  left,  while  I  tried  in  vain  to 
stay  his  progress  by  compelling  him  to  keep  the  rod 
bent.  There  was  no  tire-out  to  him.  I  saw  that  I 
should  lose  him  if  I  didn't  run,  so  I  ran  as  fast  as  I 
could,  leaping  over  dead  logs  and  jumping  across  holes 
until  I  was  tired  enough  to  drop  in  my  tracks.  Then 
the  salmon  took  a  notion  to  sulk.  He  lay  at  the  bot- 
tom of  the  river  long  enough  for  me  to  reel  in  about 
seventy  yards  of  line,  and  then  apparently  determined 
to  sulk  my  patience  all  away. 

I  gave  him  one  or  two  steady  pulls,  but  I  might  as 
well  have  pulled  against  a  rock.  He  seemed  to  have 
grown  to  the  bottom,  and  to  have  become  a  part  of  it. 

"  I  say,  Nimrod,  throw  a  stone  in,  and  mind  you 
don't  cut  my  line." 

"  That  will  I,"  he  replied,  and  thereupon  the  stone 
struck  the  water  and  sank.  There  was  a  slight  mo- 
tion in  response,  but  nothing  more. 

"  Give  him  another,  and  a  bigger  one."  This  was 
done,  but  the  stone  went  so  close  to  the  line  that  I 
feared  for  a  moment  I  had  lost  my  fish.  He  was  all 
right,  however,  and  immediately  started  for  a  trip 
down  stream.  I  followed  him  as  best  I  could,  but  he 
went  more  rapidly  than  my  legs  could  carry  me.  By 
this  time  I  had  been  fast  to  him  just  twenty  minutes, 
and  was  so  tired  that  I  determined  to  run  the  risk  and 
give  him  the  butt.  The  rod  bent  to  the  task  in  the 
most  loving  way,  and  the  salmon  began  to  grow  palpa- 
bly tired.     I  managed  by  dint  of  good- luck  to  keep 


A  Salmon  and  a  Fox.  163 

him  clear  of  a  sharp  rock  in  the  middle  of  the  river, 
and  to  guide  him  into  a  pool  on  the  nearer  side  of 
the  bank,  and  directly  opposite  the  one  where  he  had 
struck.  He  was  resting  for  a  great  struggle,  when  I 
said  to  Nimrod, 

"  Can't  you  wade  in  and  gafif  him  ?  I  can't  hold  on 
much  longer." 

"Just  you  keep  steady,  sir,  and  I'll  do  my  best." 

He  walked  into  the  river  very  cautiously  up  to  his 
knees,  then  up  to  his  waist,  when,  bending  forward,  he 
found  he  could  just  reach  him. 

"  Now  then,  steady !"  he  said,  while  I  stood  as  rigid 
as  a  statue,  the  rod  well  bent  and  the  line  taut.  I  saw 
the  shining  point  of  the  gaff  under  his  belly,  and  the 
quick  backward  motion  of  Nimrod's  arm.  Then  came 
a  struggle,  a  splash,  and  a  victory. 

"  I've  got  him  !"  said  Nimrod. 

"  Good !"  I  replied  ;  "  land  him  with  great  care." 
Then  he  was  laid  gently  on  the  grass,  his  scaly  sides 
glistening  like  molten  silver,  while  I  enjoyed  a  certain 
sensation  of  pride  which  only  he  can  feel  who  plays  an 
eighteen-pounder  with  a  single  gut  and  brings  him  to 
gaff. 

Curiously  enough,  I  did  not  get  another  stir,  though 
I  whipped  the  stream  until  noon.  I  had  had  sport 
enough,  however,  and  felt  content  with  the  day's  work. 
The  truth  is,  there  are  very  few  delicious  sensations  in 
life  entirely  unalloyed  with  pain,  and  playing  a  salmon 
successfully  is  one  of  them.     He  is 

A  fish  of  wonderful  beauty  and  force, 

That  bites  like  a  steel-trap,  and  pulls  like  a  horse ; 

and  a  man  grows  taller  of  stature  and  broader  of  heart 


164  Starboard  and  Port. 

when  lie  has  safely  kmded  one  of  these  glories  of  the 
deep,  after  an  hour's  strategy  and  struggle. 

Pray  do  not  think  me  over-enthusiastic.     I  am  not 
so  fascinated  by  the  gentle  art  as  to  say  that 

"  AH  pleasures  but  the  angler's  bring 
I'  th'  tail  repentance  like  a  sting  ;" 

but  I  do  delight  in  the  change  from  the  worrying 
troubles  of  city  life  to  the  sweet  and  refreshing  silence 
of  the  woods. 

"  I  love  to  see  the  man  of  care 

Take  pleasure  in  a  toy; 
I  love  to  see  him  row  or  ride, 

And  tread  the  grass  with  joy, 
Or  throw  the  circling  salmon-fly 

As  lusty  as  a  boy. 

"  The  road  of  life  is  hard  enough. 

Bestrewn  with  slag  and  thorn ; 
I  would  not  mock  the  simplest  joy 

That  made  it  less  forlorn, 
But  fill  its  evening  path  with  flowers 

As  fresh  as  those  of  morn." 

We  soon  after  came  across  the  other  gentlemen  of 
the  party,  who  had  enjoyed  excellent  luck,  killing  some 
very  fine  silver  trout,  and  a  dozen  or  so  of  the  brook 
trout,  weighing  all  the  way  from  three  quarters  of  a 
pound  to  a  pound  and  a  half.  By  this  time,  having 
come  off  without  any  breakfast,  we  were  tolerably  hun- 
gry. Fletch  was  so  completely  famished  that,  while 
we  were  busy  putting  our  rods  in  order  and  admiring 
the  beauties  who  had  rewarded  us  for  our  toil,  he  built 
a  fire  out  of  drift-wood,  and  with  a  pronged  stick  to 
hold  the  fish  steady  managed  to  cook  one  of  the  small- 
er trout.     He  was  compelled  to  eat  it  without  bread, 


A  Salmon  and  a  Fox.  165 

pepper,  or  salt,  or  salt  pork  either — that  ambrosial  mys- 
tery with  which  trout  should  always  be  cooked ;  and 
the  consequence  was  that,  though  the  first  few  mouth- 
fuls  were  .delicious,  the  next  few  were  only  tolerable, 
and  the  next  still  hardly  palatable,  until  at  length  he 
laid  the  charred  remains  on  the  grass,  and  expressed  a 
preference  for  a  different  style  of  cooking. 

Bertric,  who  was  always  saying  bright  things,  threw 
his  hands  up  as  though  he  had  hit  upon  some  new  dis- 
covery, and  said, 

"■  Fellows,  there's  a  farm-house  yonder,  and  in  that 
farm-house  milk  and  bread,  and  in  our  wallets  is  silver, 
the  logical  result  of  all  which  is — the  very  thought  re- 
vives me — dinner !" 

We  were  all  hilarious  except  Nimrod,  who  was  glum. 
That  was  a  bad  sign. 

"  Well,  Ancient  Mariner,"  said  Bertric,  with  a  sly  hit 
in  the  intercostal  regions  of  Nimrod,  "  prythee,  why 
so  sad  ?" 

Nimrod  looked  up  with  a  shadow  on  his  face,  and 
replied, 

"  Because  that  man  don't  keep  a  cow." 

"There  goes  my  dinner!"  cried  Bertric: 

" '  'Twas  ever  thus,  from  childhood's  hour 
I've  seen  my  fondest  hopes  decay.' " 

"  Oh,  no  ;  you  needn't  despair,  for  Jessie  has  cream," 
said  Nimrod. 

"Jessie? — who  is  Jessie?"  cried  we  all  at  once. 

"  No  matter  who,  nor  yet  what  she  is,"  some  one 
said  ;  "  if  she  has  cream,  it  is  enough." 

We   afterward   found   it   not  only  enough,  but   too 


1 66  Starboard  and  Port. 

much.  A  walk — no,  it  was  not  that,  for  the  word  walk 
has  a  spring,  an  elasticity  of  suggestion  in  it — rather 
a  trudge,  for  that  is  a  heavy,  leaden  word,  which  ex- 
presses our  condition — of  half  an  hour,  and  we  saw  on 
a  hill-side,  the  roots  of  whose  ancient  trees  had  never 
been  taken  out,  a — what  shall  I  call  it  ?  It  was  not  a 
house,  for  that  expression  gives  you  an  idea  of  comfort 
and  cleanliness.  It  was  a  frame  building,  about  fifteen 
feet  square,  covered  with  a  roof  partly  thatched,  while 
the  rest  of  it  was  covered  with  slabs.  It  was  sided 
with  castaway  boards,  which  with  singular  unanimity 
refused  to  lie  close  together.  In  the  window,  one  of 
the  four  squares  had  glass  in  it,  but  of  the  others  two 
had  a  tuft  of  grass  and  an  old  hat,  while  the  third  had 
nothing.  The  door  was  hung  on  leathern  hinges. 
The  floor  was  the  original  earth  ;  the  chimney  and 
fire-place  were  of  mud,  and  for  beds  there  were  two 
bunks,  like  those  in  a  condemned  fishing-sloop. 

Nimrod  stood  in  the  midst  of  this  wilderness  of 
squalor,  and  yelled  "  Jessie  1  Jessie  !"  at  the  top  of  his 
voice  ;  but  no  Jessie  appeared.  "  I'll  find  the  girl ;  she's 
hiding,"  he  said,  and  with  that  he  rushed  to  the  barn, 
whence  he  soon  emerged,  bringing  a  woman  apparently 
forty  years  of  age.  She  came  with  great  hesitation  and 
diffidence,  and  only  after  repeated  assertions  on  the 
part  of  Nimrod  that  nobody  would  hurt  her.  He 
had  found  her  hidden  away  by  crouching  behind  two 
cows. 

She  was  a  pure-blooded  Gaelic  woman,  speaking  only 
her  native  language,  with  an  exceptional  word  every 
now  and  then  of  very  bad  English.  Her  hair,  which 
was  in  the  utmost  conceivable  disorder,  partly  tied  in 


A  Salmon  and  a  Fox. 


167 


a  knot,  and  partly  dangling 
over  her  shoulders,  was 
coal-black.  Her  eyes  re- 
sembled two  lumps  of  bur- 
nished Lehigh.  Her  dress 
— if  the  few  tattered  arti- 
cles which  failed  to  conceal 
her  person  could  be  called 
by  so  respectable  a  name 
— consisted  of  a  variety  of 
remnants  which  had  seen 
better  days,  but  which  un- 
der no  circumstances  could 
experience  worse.  We  all 
thought  of  Stonehenge  ;  for 
she  was  an  ideal  Druidess,  and  one  of  the  "  raal  old 
stock."  We  should  not  have  been  more  surprised  if 
we  had  been  suddenly  transported  to  the  time  when 
Boadicea  led  her  hosts  through  British  forests.  It  was 
a  superb  touch  of  ancient  history,  not  only  in  the  per- 
son who  stood  before  us,  but  in  all  the  surroundings — 
the  mud  hut,  the  stumps  of  trees,  the  untilled  ground, 
the  background  of  forest,  with  not  another  domicile  in 
sight  to  remind  us  of  the  nineteenth  century. 

One  of  the  party  sat  on  the  only  seat  in  the  hut, 
which  was  a  three-legged  stool,  and  the  others  stood  or 
occupied  the  door-step. 

"Jessie,  have  you  any  cream  ?"  said  Nimrod. 

That  much  at  least  she  comprehended.  She  quickly 
brought  from  an  outhouse  a  large  water-bucket  full  of 
such  cream  as  my  eyes  had  never  beheld.  Here  was 
a  good  dinner,  and  our  anticipations  were  of  the  most 


1 68  Starboard  and  Port. 

favorable  kind.  Ikit  they  were  quickly  dashed  with 
disappointment,  for  Jessie's  subsequent  proceedings 
dispelled  the  illusion.  She  washed  her  hands  and  arms 
in  a  vessel  which  had  been  recently  used  for  cooking 
purposes,  then  deliberately  rinsed  a  couple  of  pint 
bowls  in  the  same  water,  and  wiped  them  on  a  towel 
whose  condition  was  indescribable.  And  that  was 
household  economy. 

"Cream  don't  agree  with  me  —  it  makes  me  sick," 
said  Bertric. 

*'  I  don't  feel  as  hungry  as  I  did,"  said  Stigand.  "  I 
think  I  won't  spoil  my  appetite  until  we  get  home." 

This  was  a  dilemma.  I  was  dying  for  the  cream,  but 
under  the  peculiar  circumstances  felt  that  at  least  the 
edge  of  my  appetite  was  gone.  So,  while  the  rest 
were  engaged  in  conversation,  I  took  one  of  the  bowls, 
slipped  out  to  a  spring  near  by,  washed  it  thoroughly, 
and  then  came  back  triumphant.  I  dipped  it  into  the 
bucket,  and  had  my  fill.  The  others  took  the  hint,  and 
did  the  same  thing;  so  we  had  a  very  delicious  meal 
after  all. 

I  speak  of  this  experience  because  of  the  central  per- 
sonage. You  do  come  across  in  these  far-away  coun- 
tries, once  in  a  while,  a  most  imposing  bit  of  ancient 
time.  As  in  some  secluded  alcove  of  a  museum  you 
surprise  yourself  with  the  sight  of  a  rare  antique,  the 
last  trace  of  which  you  supposed  lost,  so  in  Cape  Bre- 
ton, and  along  the  upper  edges  of  Canada,  you  hit 
upon  a  human  curiosity  at  rare  intervals  who  reminds 
you  of  the  time  when  the  world  was  in  its  swaddling- 
clothes.  Jessie  looked  like,  and  I  think  even  now  that 
she  may  have  been,  one  of  the  original  Iceni  who  help- 


A  Salmon  and  a  Fox.  169 

cd  to  throw  up  the  earthworks  at  Devil's  Ditch,  to 
keep  the  Romans  out.  As  a  fly  in  amber,  so  she  ex- 
ists in  the  nineteenth  century.  I  left  her  feeling  that 
I  had  communed  with  the  past,  and  with  the  hope  that 
I  might  never  see  it  again. 

After  dinner  at  the  Scotchman's,  some  one  of  the 
party  suggested  that  a  good  square  meal  cooked  by 
Ah  Boo  would  be  very  desirable.  The  truth  is,  we 
were  half  starved.  The  bread  was  sour  and  black,  the 
coffee  had  not  the  most  distant  connection  with  either 
Java  or  Mocha,  but  was  a  drink  by  itself,  while  the  tea 
was  so  decidedly  "  yarby  "  that  we  threw  it  out  of  the 
window  when  the  maid  turned  her  back.  I  can  rough 
it  in  camp  where  I  can  cook  myself,  or  oversee  it ;  but 
the  food  which  is  found  in  the  backwoods  of  Cape 
Breton  would  put  to  a  severe  test  the  digestive  organs 
of  a  bronze  lion. 

"  Home  it  is !"  we  cried  all  at  once,  and  in  half  an 
hour  we  had  made  arrangements  with  our  host  to  carry 
us  back  in  his  two  teams,  and  were  on  our  way  sing- 
ing at  the  top  of  our  voices  at  the  prospect  of  a  clean 
table-cloth.  Thus  perfectly  does  man's  stomach  rule 
and  decide  his  destiny.  The  going  and  coming  had 
cost  each  of  the  seven  just  seven  dollars  and  sixty- 
nine  cents  in  gold,  and  the  net  result  was  one  salmon 
and  a  few  trout.  That  is  hardly  a  fair  estimate,  how- 
ever, since  we  had  enjoyed  the  scenery  amazingly,  and 
would  not  have  missed  the  insight  we  got  into  the 
habits  of  the  people,  and  the  view  of  the  Gaelic  Jessie, 
for  double  the  amount. 

We  went  back  by  the  same  road  along  which  we 
came,  because  there  was  no  other.     Nothing  disturbed 

H 


170  Starboard  and  Port. 

the  serenity  of  the  trip  until  we  reached  Broad  Cove, 
after  which  time  my  happiness  at  least  was  seriously 
marred.  One  of  the  horses  had  lost  a  shoe,  so  we 
had  twenty  minutes  for  refreshments.  Bertric  went  to 
one  house,  where  they  had  milk  but  no  bread,  and  to 
another,  where  they  had  bread  but  no  milk.  We  suc- 
ceeded in  making  a  combination  of  the  two  home- 
steads, and  were  about  to  leave,  when  a  farmer's  wife 
called  out  after  us,  saying  she  had  a  tame  fox,  and 
wanting  to  know  if  we  would  like  to  see  it. 

Of  course  we  were  eager  to  gaze  on  any  thing  in  the 
way  of  a  curiosity,  and  so  we  filed  Indian  fashion 
through  a  narrow  gate  and  into  the  back-yard.  Little 
Reynard  was  a  red-haired  beauty,  and  my  heart  warm- 
ed to  him  to  such  an  extent  that  I  boldly  asked  the 
price.  The  woman  agreed  to  let  me  have  him  for  two 
dollars,  if  I  would  give  her  half  a  dollar  for  his  chain. 
As  a  fox  without  a  chain  is  a  great  deal  closer  to  the 
woods  than  he  is  with  one,  I  bought  both,  and  for  a 
minute  was  happy.  My  happiness  began  to  curdle, 
however,  in  a  short  time,  and  not  long  afterward  it 
turned  irretrievably  sour.  Behold  Fletch  and  myself 
in  the  single  wagon.  I  had  the  fox  in  my  lap,  his 
chain  wound  around  my  arm.  The  dog  was  on  the 
bottom  of  the  wagon,  howling  with  all  his  might,  and 
so  uneasy  that  I  was  compelled  to  hold  on  to  his  collar 
to  keep  him  from  jumping  out,  which  would  have  in- 
creased our  trouble,  because  he  was  so  foot-sore  that  he 
could  not  run  a  rod.  The  horse  required  incessant 
urging  of  the  most  stimulating  kind,  which  I  adminis- 
tered at  paroxysmal  intervals  wath  a  long  branch  which 
I  had  cut  for  the  occasion.     Besides  this,  I  had  a  gun 


A  Salmon  and  a  Fox.  171 

between  my  legs,  which  the  restive  dog  came  near  fir- 
ing several  times  by  rubbing  up  against  the  hammer. 
I  never  came  nearer  losing  my  temper,  and  giving  up 
the  ghost  altogether,  than  I  did  on  that  occasion. 
Fletch  could  not  help  me,  for  he  had  the  reins  in  one 
hand,  while  with  the  other  he  guarded  several  bundles 
which  seemed  inclined  to  leap  over  the  back-board. 
To  make  matters  worse,  and  as  though  Fate  had  it  all 
her  own  way,  and  had  determined  to  pile  the  Ossa  on 
the  Pelion  of  vexation,  one  of  the  boards  in  the  bottom 
of  the  wagon  dropped  out,  which  let  the  dog  half-way 
through  every  once  in  a  while.  My  time.was  chiefly 
spent  in  whipping  the  horse  and  cosseting  the  fox, 
catching  hold  of  the  gun  just  as  it  was  about  to  drop 
out  of  the  wagon,  and  yanking  the  dog  from  the  hole 
through  which  he  and  the  small -sized  buffalo  skin, 
which  served  as  a  mat,  were  continually  falling.  My 
conversation  was  somewhat  fragmentary,  and  consisted 
of  ejaculatory  phrases  without  any  special  coherence, 
while  my  thoughts  were  directed  from  one  subject  to 
another  with  such  rapidity  that  my  whole  brain  was 
dizzy.  '■'■  Get  up  there !  Poor  Foxy,  you  needn't  be 
frightened.  Keep  still,  Frank !" — the  dog.  "  There  he 
goes  through  that  hole  again !"  I  think  I  have  seldom 
in  my  life  experienced  such  a  sense  of  relief  as  I  en- 
joyed when  we  finally  drove  down  to  the  wharf  and 
hailed  the  Nettie. 

When  we  got  on  board  Ah  Boo  had  a  hot  supper 
ready,  and  a  happier  set  of  men  your  eyes  never  be- 
held. 


172  Starboard  and  Port. 


CHAPTER  X. 

ALONG  PRINCE  EDWARD'S. 

"The  powerful  sails,  with  steady  breezes  swell'd, 
Swift  and  more  swift  the  yielding  bark  impell'd." 

^£^-^  Falconer. 

E  intended  to  make  up  for  loss  of 
sleep  on  the  Margaree  expedition 
by  lying  idle  all  the  next  day. 
There  is  something  delicious  and 
recuperative  in  the  indolence  of 
yacht  life.  To  lie  down  on  deck,  a  thick  wolf- skin 
underneath  you,  book  in  hand,  and  to  skip  the  dry 
places  in  the  narrative  by  lifting  the  eyes  to  the  sea, 
forests,  and  sky  occasionally,  constitutes  one  of  the 
most  delightful  of  possible  experiences.  All  this  pleas- 
ure we  had  proposed  to  ourselves ;  but  in  the  morning 
the  wind  came  up  fresh  from  the  southwest,  and  Ed- 
wards suggested  that  it  would  be  too  bad  to  lose  such 
a  breeze. 

Our  plans  were,  however,  in  great  confusion.  We 
had  hoped  to  go  to  the  Bay  of  Islands  on  the  west 
coast  of  Newfoundland,  and  Rev.  Mr.  Harvey,  of  St. 
John's,  Newfoundland,  had,  with  kindness  unparalleled, 
engaged  four  Indians  whom  we  were  to  take  aboard  at 
the  Bay  of  Despair,  and  had  also  gathered  a  quantity 
of  information  for  our  use.     But  there  were  several  rea- 


Along  Prince  Edward's,  173 

sons  why  it  was  impossible  to  change  our  hopes  into 
reaHtics.  We  gave  this  project  up,  for  which  we  had 
made  very  extensive  preparations,  and  had  not  yet 
fixed  upon  the  new  route  to  be  taken.  At  some  future 
time  I  hope  I  shall  be  able  to  carry  out  a  plan  which 
has  been  in  my  mind  for  a  long  time,  namely,  to  cross 
the  island  of  Newfoundland  by  way  of  the  Bay  of  Isl- 
ands, go  up  the  Humber  River  in  canoes,  then  by  a 
short  portage  cross  to  Deer  Lake,  thence  to  Great  In- 
dian Pond,  and  so  on  down  the  River  of  Exploits  to 
Hall's  Bay.  That  is  an  ideal  trip  for  a  party  of  half  a 
dozen  sturdy  and  enduring  men.  In  the  woods  are 
plenty  of  caribou,  with  once  in  a  while  a  black  bear 
for  a  target  at  one  hundred  yards.  In  the  water  are 
salmon  in  great  abundance,  and  trout  enough  to  fill 
the  creeks  of  the  world,  and  on  the  water  mallards 
and  canvas-backs. 

It  started  my  lachrymal  fount,  and  gave  me  a  very 
queer,  dull,  and  unpleasant  feeling  about  the  heart, 
when  I  convinced  myself  that  the  project  must  be 
abandoned.  But  we  were  all  disappointed  in  the  prog- 
ress we  had  made  at  night.  During  July  and  August 
the  wind  has  a  very  disagreeable  way  of  going  down 
with  the  sun,  and  leaving  you  to  roll  about,  heading 
toward  every  point  of  the  compass  until  daybreak.  It 
was  a  rare  fortune  for  us  to  make  even  thirty  or  forty 
miles  from  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening  until  seven  the 
next  morning;  and  many  a  night  we  slipped  backward 
on  the  current,  the  big  sails  slatting,  and  not  a  breath 
of  wind.  This  inevitable  delay  cut  our  vacation  down 
at  least  two  weeks,  and  rendered  it  impossible  to  ac- 
complish all  we  had  laid  out. 


174  Starboard  and  Port. 

"  Yes,"  I  said  to  Edwards,  "  it's  a  splendid  breeze, 
but  where  shall  \vc  go  ?  What  wc  are  after  is  good 
hunting  and  fishing,  and  where  shall  we  find  these 
things?  When  we  got  to  Halifax,  they  told  us  the 
rivers  were  fished  to  death,  but  that  we  should  find  all 
we  wanted  farther  on.  When  we  reached  Canso,  they 
said  the  waters  had  been  whipped  until  the  last  fish 
had  taken  to  the  ocean,  and  the  woods  contained 
nothing  bigger  than  woodpeckers.  We  have  just  come 
from  the  Margaree,  and  have  been  informed  that  all 
the  officers  in  the  British  army  have  been  before  us, 
but  that  we  can  get  game  enough  in  the  higher  lati- 
tudes. We  can  go  to  Aspee  Bay,  round  Cape  North, 
but  we  shall  probably  meet  the  same  fortune  there. 
They  will  send  us  to  Newfoundland,  and  the  New- 
foundlanders will  send  us  to  Labrador,  and  the  Labra- 
dorians  will  send  us  to  Greenland." 

"Aspee  Bay,"  said  Edwards — "I'm  no  pilot  there; 
but  I  can  carry  you  to  Gaspe  Bay,  on  the  other  shore, 
and  I  think  you  will  get  all  you  want  there." 

"  Gaspe — where  is  that?"  said  Ruloff. 

"Just  this  side  of  the  mouth  of  the  St.  Lawrence," 
responded  Edwards;  "and  the  whole  coast  is  full  of 
interest,  while  the  scenery  is  magnificent." 

"  Hallo,  there,  Nimrod !"  I  shouted. 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir,"  was  the  reply  from  that  important 
functionary. 

"  Have  you  ever  been  to  Gaspe  ?" 

"  That  have  I  sir,  and  many  a  time.' 

"  Are  there  any  deer  in  the  woods?" 

"  The  woods  are  full  of  them,  sir,"  asserted  this  ar- 
rant knave,  who  never  once  confessed  to  ignorance  of 
any  subject  or  place. 


Alo7ig  Prmce  Edward's.  175 

"  Can  we  get  any  ducks  there  ?" 

"  Ducks  ?  my  eyes,  sir  !  I  was  out  there  once  when 
we  killed  ducks  with  clubs,  they  were  so  thick.  We 
filled  the  boat  till  we  were  afraid  it  would  sink,  and 
then  were  fairly  driven  home  by  the  flocks  of  them 
that  insisted  on  being  killed." 

This  we  knew  to  be  a  yarn  told  in  the  interest  of 
two  dollars,  gold,  a  day ;  but  as  Edwards  assured  us  that 
he  had  seen  plenty  of  birds  around  Bonaventura,  just 
this  side  of  Gaspe,  we  concluded  to  turn  our  prow  in 
that  direction. 

"  Well,  up  with  your  anchor.  Captain  Comstock,  and 
we'll  go  as  far  as  this  wind  will  carry  us." 

The  sails  were  hoisted,  the  anchor  weighed,  and  in 
half  an  hour  we  were  out  of  Port  Hood,  and  headed  for 
East  Point  Light,  on  the  S.E.  end  of  Prince  Edward's 
Island.  • 

That  was  another  white  day  in  our  calendar.  No 
sooner  had  we  got  fairly  out  to  sea  than  the  wind 
freshened  to  a  ten-knot  breeze,  and  we  went  bowling 
along  at  the  most  exhilarating  rate.  We  sighted  East 
Point  when  we  had  been  out  little  over  an  hour,  and  in 
another  hour  we  had  passed  it,  and  laid  our  course 
along  the  edge  of  the  island.  We  sailed  almost  due 
west,  and  most  of  the  time  within  a  mile  of  the  shore. 

As  we  passed  one  inlet  after  another,  the  history  of 
this  most  delightful  spot,  cuddling  in  the  southwest 
corner  of  the  magnificent  gulf,  was  brought  to  mind. 
Prince  Edward's  Island  is  about  one  hundred  and  forty 
miles  long,  if  you  follow  the  bend  of  the  land,  the 
northern  line  of  which  resembles  the  concave  line  of  a 
new  moon,  while  it  is  only  about  ninety-five  miles  from 


176  Starboard  and  Port. 

East  Point  to  North  Point,  if  you  go  by  water.  It  con- 
tains 1,360,000  acres  of  rich  land,  with  hardly  any  rocks, 
and  the  soil  is  red  in  color  like  that  of  New  Jersey. 
There  arc  no  mountains,  and  only  a  few  hills  of  any 
considerable  height.  The  coast  is  very  low,  seldom 
rising  in  its  steepest  bluff  to  more  than  a  hundred 
feet.  It  was  discovered  by  the  irrepressible  Cabot, 
who  called  it  St.  John's,  on  the  24th  of  June,  1497, 
and  it  consequently  belonged  to  Great  Britain  accord- 
ing to  the  rule  of  the  early  navigators,  which  Freneau 
has  put  in  the  following  distich  : 

"  For  the  time  once  was,  to  all  be  it  known, 
When  all  a  man  sailed  by,  or  saw,  was  his  own." 

Cabot  took  possession  of  it  immediately  after  his 
discovery  of  Newfoundland,  when  he  was  on  "  the 
starboard  tack,"  and  running  for  the  Strait  of  Fronfac, 
or  Canso.  The  greedy  French,  however,  were  the  first 
actual  possessors  by  pre-emption,  and  they  annexed  it 
to  New  France,  or  Canada,  afterward  leasing  it,  together 
with  the  Magdalen  Islands,  which  are  only  about  twenty 
leagues  distant  to  the  northeast,  to  the  Sieur  Doublett, 
who  was  a  captain  in  the  French  navy,  to  be  held  as  a 
feudal  tenure  of  the  company  of  Miscou.  After  the 
capture  of  Louisburg,  however,  it  fell  again  into  En- 
glish hands,  and  there  it  has  remained  ever  since. 

It  is  almost  wholly  dissimilar  to  any  land  that  lies 
adjacent.  Its  soil  is  especially  favorable  to  ordinary 
products,  and  it  may  well  be  called  the  granary  of  the 
northeast.  The  climate  is  something  wonderful,  being 
neither  so  cold  in  winter  nor  so  hot  in  summer  as 
Lower  Canada,  while  it  is  entirely  free  from  the  innu- 


Along  Prince  Edward's.  177 

merable  fogs  which  slip  over  Cape  Breton  and  Nova 
Scotia.  It  is  said  that  the  inhabitants  very  frequently 
reach  one  hundred  years  of  age  without  ever  suffering 
from  serious  illness.  The  air  is  dry  and  bracing,  and 
no  better  project  could  be  set  on  foot  than  to  empty 
the  hospitals  of  the  world  on  these  generous  shores. 
The  fell  diseases  with  which  we  of  the  eastern  coast 
are  so  afflicted,  as  consumption,  for  example,  and  inter- 
mittent fevers,  are  never  known  ;  while  nonagenarians 
and  centenarians  who  are  still  able  to  do  a  fair  day's 
work  on  the  farm  are  met  with  at  every  turn.  Indeed, 
it  is  an  ideal  spot  for  the  invalid ;  and  the  time  is  not 
far  distant  when  that  ghastly  crowd  that  yearly  goes 
to  Florida  to  die  will  change  their  course,  and  go  to 
Prince  Edward's  to  live.  I  have  often  wondered  at 
this  American  folly  w'hich  prompts  one  who  is  in  the 
last  stages  of  consumption,  or  who  has  a  serious  diffi- 
culty with  throat  or  lungs,  to  leave  a  comfortable  home 
that  he  may  roost  on  the  branches  of  the  Florida  coast, 
at  a  cost  of  five  or  six  dollars  a  day  and  nothing  to 
cat. 

I  sometimes  suspect  that  it  is  all  a  ruse  of  the 
doctors,  who  do  not  care  to  have  a  patient  die  on  their 
hands,  and  who,  therefore,  advise  a  trip  to  the  sunny 
South,  which  sounds  well  enough,  but  which  is  in  re- 
ality a  trip  to  the  grave-yard.  Florida  is  a  Moloch 
who  must  be  dethroned.  He  has  an  insatiable  appe- 
tite, and  is  everlastingly  demanding  more ;  and  more 
he  will  have,  so  long  as  fashion  holds  control  over  life 
and  death  as  now.  When  we  wake  from  our  delusion, 
we  shall  find  that  the  dry,  bracing,  life-giving  atmos- 
phere of  some   favored  spot  like  Prince  Edward's  is 

H  2 


178  Starboard  and  Port. 

worth  far  more  than  the  subtle  poison  of  Florida,  even 
if  the  camclhas  do  blossom  there  in  February,  and  the 
sun  coaxes  the  mercury  up  to  seventy-five.  I  do  not 
care  to  sit  in  judgment  on  the  opinion  of  a  physician, 
but  if  I  had  a  cross-grained  uncle  who  was  worth  a 
million,  and  who  had  made  a  will  in  my  favor ;  and  if 
this  aforesaid  relation  was  coughing  about  the  house 
all  day,  giving  me  as  it  were  an  anticipatory  view  of 
his  fortune  ;  and  if,  furthermore,  I  was  possessed  of  a 
diabolical  thirst  of  gain,  I  should  coax  him  to  go  to 
Florida,  and,  taking  his  exact  measure  in  feet  and 
inches,  should  confide  it  to  a  neighboring  undertaker 
before  he  started.  But  if,  on  the  other  hand,  I  wished 
to  retain  him  a  little  longer  amid  these  sublunary 
scenes,  free  from  bronchitis  and  tubercles,  I  should 
pack  him  off  for  some  such  secluded  spot  as  Prince 
Edward's,  where  the  refreshing  air  and  equal  tempera- 
ture would  rebuild  his  shattered  constitution. 

.  I  would  like  nothing  better  than  to  land  at  St. 
Peter's  Bay,  and  with  a  couple  of  ponies  raised  from 
good  English  stock,  for  which  the  island  has  become 
famous,  start  on  a  trip  over  the  entire  island,  hunting 
in  its  woods,  fishing  in  its  rivers  and  lakes,  and  stopping 
at  the  always  hospitable  farm-houses  at  night.  With 
sweet  bread,  fresh  milk  and  eggs,  and  rich  cream,  I 
think  I  could  manage  to  survive  for  a  month  or  two 
at  least. 

That  was  certainly  superb  sailing  we  had  that  day. 
Every  stitch  of  canvas  drew.  We  had  up,  besides  the 
deck  sails,  consisting  of  mainsail,  foresail,  and  jib,  the 
main  and  fore  gaff  topsails,  the  flying  jib,  and  the  jib 
topsail.     The  Nettie  fairly  danced  through  the  water. 


Along  Prince  Edward's.  179 

The  sea  was  smooth,  for  we  were  under  the  lee  of  the 
island,  and  the  yacht,  heehng  over  until  the  waves 
once  in  a  while  swashed  aboard,  cut  the  deep  as  though 
she  were  chasing  an  enemy,  or  being  chased  by  one. 
The  sun  was  out  in  a  sky  almost  cloudless,  and  the 
white-caps  made  the  gulf  look  like  a  caldron  of  molten 
silver.  Once  in  a  while  a  gust  would  come  which 
suggested  the  propriety  of  taking  in  the  top-hamper, 
when  every  part  of  the  standing  rigging  seemed  to 
strain  itself  to  the  utmost  to  hold  on,  and  when  the 
vibrating  ropes  made  a  music  which  the  sailor  delights 
to  hear  more  than  the  tuneful  chords  of  the  harp ;  and 
then  again  the  wind  would  settle  down  for  half  an  hour 
to  a  blow  so  steady  that  the  high-water  mark  on  the 
lee  side  did  not  vary  an  inch. 

We  tried  to  find  some  poetry  which  would  fitly 
describe  our  situation  and  feelings,  but  most  of  the 
poets  who  have  written  about  the  merry  and  the  dan- 
gerous moods  of  salt  water  were  landsmen,  and  would 
have  been  too  seasick  in  a  gale  to  think  of  rhyming. 
There  is  a  vast  deal  of  shoal-water  poetry,  which  ex- 
pends its  music  on  gulf-weed,  the  sea-mew,  drift-wood, 
the  coral  grove,  and  the  ebb  and  flow,  but  very  little 
that  may  be  called  deep-sea  poetry,  which  portrays  the 
sterner  temper  of  old  Ocean  when  he  chafes  and  storms 
in  a  glorious  burst  of  indignation.  It  is  one  thing  to 
sit  on  an  overhanging  cliff  and  imagine  a  plunging 
vessel  on  a  lee  shore,  and  quite  another  thing  to  be  on 
board,  and  put  the  actual  scene  in  rhythmic  phrase. 

There  is,  however,  a  grandeur  in  these  lines  of  Ho- 
mer which  brings  the  earnestness  of  the  sea  before 
you,  as   little   modern   poetry   docs,  and   makes   you 


i8o  Starboard  and  Port. 

almost  feel  the  crisp  wind,  as  it  dashes  the  spray  in 
your  face : 

"  There  was  his  palace  in  the  deep  sea-water, 
Shining  with  gold,  and  buildcd  firm  forever ; 
And  there  he  yoked  him  his  swift-footed  horses 
(Their  hoofs  arc  brazen,  and  their  manes  are  golden), 
With  golden  thongs ;  his  golden  goad  he  seizes ; 
He  mounts  upon  his  chariot,  and  doth  fly  ; 
Yea,  drives  he  forth  his  steeds  into  the  billows." 

Then  again  Scott,  though  he  knew  so  Httle  of  sea- 
water,  gives  us  a  taste  of  an  eight-knot  breeze  in  his 
song,  which  I  have  repeated  so  many  times  in  the  ear 
of  half  a  gale : 

"Merrily,  merrily  bounds  the  bark, 
She  bounds  before  the  gale; 
The  mountain  breeze  from  Ben-na-darch 
Is  joyous  in  her  sail. 

"  With  fluttering  sound,  like  laughter  hoarse, 

The  cords  and  canvas  strain  ; 
The  waves,  divided  by  her  force. 
In  rippling  eddies  chase  her  course 

As  if  they  laugh'd  again." 

How  many  times  has  the  sailor  stood  at  the  stern, 
and,  looking  on  the  wake  of  the  vessel,  laughed  in  his 
heart  to  see  the  trembling  waves  apparently  rush  after 
the  vessel  as  though  they  would  try  to  catch  it ;  and 
the  low  murmuring  sound  of  the  waters  gurgling  about 
the  rudder  have  seemed  to  rebuke  the  craft  for  its  in- 
trusion among  the  sportive  waves. 

"  Merrily,  merrily  bounds  the  bark. 
O'er  the  broad  ocean  driven ; 
Her  path  by  Ronin's  mountain  dark, 
The  steerman's  hand  has  given. 


Along  Princf  Edward's.  i8i 

"Merrily,  merrily  goes  the  bark, 

On  a  breeze  from  the  northward  free  ; 
So  shoots  through  the  morning  sky  the  lark, 
Or  the  swan  through  the  summer  sea. 

"  Merrily,  merrily  goes  the  bark ; 
Before  the  gale  she  bounds ; 
So  flies  the  dolphin  from  the  shark, 
Or  the  deer  before  the  hounds." 

Longfellow,  in  his  exquisite  little  poem  on  "  The 
Wreck  of  the  Hesperus"  gives  us  a  life-like  view  of 
the  gale  on  a  lee  shore,  and  must  have  drawn  on  his 
own  experiences  when  he  talked  of 

"The  vessel  in  its  strength; 
She  shuddered,  and  paused  like  a  frightened  steed, 
Then  leaped  her  cable's  length." 

Byron,  who  was  exceedingly  fond  of  the  water,  and 
enjoyed  the  ocean  in  its  roughest  moods,  has  left  but 
one  poem  at  all  worthy  of  the  theme,  but  that  is  so 
grand  that  one  likes  to  read  it  on  shipboard,  when  he 
is  far  out  at  sea,  and  never  tires  of  the  orchestral 
rhythm  of  the  lines  which  seem  to  fill  his  soul  to 
complete  satisfaction. 

The  only  sailor  poet  in  our  language  who  has  vent- 
ured to  describe  the  ocean  in  calm  and  storm  is  William 
Falconer.     When  a  boy  he  was 

"  Forlorn  of  heart,  and  by  severe  decree 
Condemned  reluctant  to  the  faithless  sea." 

For  many  years  he  was  only  a  forecastle-hand,  and 
then  obtained  a  position  as  midshiprrian  on  board  the 
Royal  George.  Every  lover  of  the  water  reads  his 
"  Shipwreck"  with  pleasure  and  admiration,  for  his  de- 


1 82  Starboard  and  Port. 

scriptions  arc  not  only  exquisite,  but  true  to  the  letter. 
Here  is  a  picture  which  no  one  has  excelled,  and  which 
brings  a  ship  on  the  eve  of  starting  vividly  to  view: 

"AH  hands  unmoor!  proclaims  a  boisterous  cry; 
All  hands  unmoor  !  the  cavern'd  rocks  reply : 
Roused  from  repose  aloft  the  sailors  swarm, 
And  with  their  levers  soon  the  windlass  arm  : 
The  order  given,  upspringing  with  a  bound, 
They  fix  the  bars,  and  heave  the  windlass  round ; 
At  every  turn  the  clanging  pauls  resound ; 
Uptorn  reluctant  from  its  oozy  cave 
The  ponderous  anchor  rises  o'er  the  wave. 
High  on  the  slippery  masts  the  yards  ascend, 
And  far  abroad  the  canvas  wings  extend. 

****** 
Majestically  slow  before  thq  breeze 
She  moves  triumphant  o'er  the  yielding  seas." 

His  description  of  a  fine  breeze  is  equally  happy: 

"  O'er  the  smooth  bosom  of  the  faithless  tides, 
Propell'd  by  flattering  gales,  the  vessel  glides ;" 

and  when  the  wind  increases, 


and 


"  The  lighter  sails,  for  summer  winds  and  seas. 
Are  now  dismissed,  the  straining  masts  to  ease  ;" 


The  powerful  sails,  with  steady  breezes  swelled, 
Swift  and  more  swift  the  yielding  bark  impelled." 


Soon  a  squall  strikes  her,  and  the  poet's  word-paint- 
ing is  as  vivid  as  ever : 

"  But  see  !    In  confluence  borne  before  the  blast, 
Clouds  roU'd  on  clouds  the  dusky  noon  o'ercast : 
The  blackening  ocean  curls,  the  winds  arise. 
And  the  dark  scud  in  swift  succession  flies. 
While  the  swoln  canvas  bends  the  masts  on  high, 
Low  in  the  wave  the  leeward  cannon  lie. 


Along  Prince  Edward's.  183 

The  master  calls,  to  give  the  ship  relief, 
The  topsails  lower,  and  form  a  single  reef. 
Each  lofty  yard  with  slackened  cordage  reels  ; 
Rattle  the  creaking  blocks  and  ringing  wheels. 
Down  the  tall  masts  the  topsails  sink  amain, 
Are  mann'd  and  reefd,  then  hoisted  up  again." 

Here  follows  a  passage  which  is  so  true  to  nature 
that  you  can  almost  hear  the  song  of  the  sailors  as 
they  haul  the  sheets  block -a -block,  while  the  vessel 
heels  till  her  gunwale  kisses  the  crests  of  the  waves : 

"  The  foresail  braced  obliquely  to  the  wind, 
They  near  the  prow  the  extended  tack  confined; 
Then  on  the  leeward  sheet  the  seamen  bend, 
And  haul  the  bowline  to  the  bowsprit-end. 
The  mainsail,  by  the  squall  so  lately  rent. 
In  streaming  pendants  flying,  is  unbent : 
With  brails  refixed,  another  soon  prepared, 
Ascending,  spreads  along  beneath  the  yard. 
To  each  yard-arm  the  head-rope  they  extend, 
And  soon  their  earings  and  their  robans  bend. 
That  task  performed,  they  first  the  braces  slack. 
Then  to  the  chess-tree  draw  the  unwilling  tack. 
And,  while  the  lee  clew-garnet's  lowered  away. 
Taut  aft  the  sheet  they  tally,  and  belay." 

There  are  in  this  description  a  vast  number  of  what 
Pope  contemptuously  styles  "  tarpaulin  phrases,"  but 
they  are  so  skillfully  and  rhythmically  used  that  they 
do  not  mar  the  verse.  They  are  noble  lines,  and  we 
enjoy  them  as  keenly  as  if  they  had  flowed  from  the 
pen  of  Virgil. 

I  can  not  refrain  from  introducing  one  more  quota- 
tion from  this  poet,  over  whose  cradle,  if  he  had  been 
born  in  Greece,  a  graceful  cluster  of  legends  would 
have   hung,  which  is  so   wonderfully  vivid  that  one 


184  Starboard  and  Port. 

almost  feels  himself  to  be  aboard,  and  begins  to  think 
seriously  of  his  policy  of  life-insurance.  The  noble 
ship  is  staggering  to  a  watery  grave : 

"  In  vain  the  cords  and  axes  were  prepared, 
For  every  wave  now  smites  the  quivering  yard. 
High  o'er  the  ship  they  throw  a  dreadful  shade, 
Then  on  her  burst  in  terrible  cascade ; 
Across  the  founder'd  deck  o'erwhelming  roar, 
And  foaming,  swelling,  bound  upon  the  shore. 
Swift  up  the  mounting  billow  now  she  flies. 
Her  shatter'd  top  half  buried  in  the  skies ; 
Borne  o'er  a  latent  reef  the  hull  impends. 
Then  thundering  on  the  marble  crags  descends : 
Her  ponderous  bulk  the  dire  concussion  feels. 
And  o'er  upheaving  surges  wounded  reels — 
Again  she  plunges  !  hark !  a  second  shock 
Bilges  the  splitting  vessel  on  the  rock — 
Down  on  the  vale  of  death,  with  dismal  cries, 
The  fated  victims  shuddering  cast  their  eyes 
In  wild  despair  ;  while  yet  another  stroke 
With  strong  convulsion  rends  the  solid  oak : 
Ah  Heaven ! — behold  her  crashing  ribs  divide  ! 
She  loosens,  parts,  and  spreads  in  ruin  o'er  the  tide." 

While  soliloquizing  thus,  the  pilot  came  to  me  about 
noon,  and,  pointing  to  the  land,  said, 

"  That  is  Tracadie  Harbor  just  opposite." 

"  Then  we  are  a  little  more  than  a  third  of  the  dis- 
tance to  North  Point.  Isn't  it  a  lovely  island  !  Just 
ahead  of  us  there  are  high  bluffs,  while  the  last  few 
miles  of  shore  have  been  very  level  and  very  low. 
But  I  see  no  rocks — how  is  that?" 

"  There  are  no  rocks  on  the  island,"  he  replied ; 
"  that  is,  none  to  interfere  with  agriculture.  The  soil 
is  rich,  and  makes  one  of  the  best  farming  districts  in 
the  world." 


Along  Prince  Edward's.  185 

"  But  with  such  a  loose  soil  I  should  think  the  cur- 
rents, which  in  a  northeaster  must  set  shoreward  with 
great  force,  would  wash  the  coast  away,  just  as  happens 
at  Nantucket,  for  instance." 

*'  It  would  have  been  washed  away  long  ago  but  for 
the  millions  of  clams  and  muscles,  which  are  thick 
enough  to  make  a  kind  of  breakwater.  Halloo,  the 
wind  gives  a  little — what  does  that  mean  ?" 

We  had  been  going  with  a  perfect  rush,  logging 
ten  miles  for  the  first  two  hours,  and  twelve  for  the 
last  three,  but  suddenly,  as  though  the  wind  had 
blown  itself  out,  the  sails  began  to  flap,  and  we  were 
as  still  as  a  *'  painted  ship  upon  a  painted  ocean." 

"John,  get  the  bait,  and  Ah  Boo,  my  Celestial  beauty, 
get  the  lines,  for  this  is  one  of  the  finest  fishing  coasts 
in  the  world,"  some  one  said.  "  See  all  about  us  a 
fleet  of  forty  or  fifty  schooners  hauling  in  the  cod. 
Now  for  the  first  fish." 

In  five  minutes  our  lines,  all  the  lines  on  board  in 
fact,  were  over. 

"  I  have  one !"  and  "  So  have  I !"  and  "  I  have  two !" 
were  the  successive  cries  from  stem  to  stern. 

That  was  a  very  neat  little  episode.  It  was  dead 
calm  for  just  fifteen  minutes,  and  in  that  time  we  had 
brought  on  deck  sixteen  good-sized  cod  and  haddock. 
Some  of  the  cod  were  pale  in  color  as  though  they  had 
lived  in  the  realms  of  eternal  night,  while  others  were 
as  red  as  though  they  had  been  feeding  on  sunset. 

"  There  she  comes  again,"  said  the  captain,  and, 
sure  enough,  the  wind  filled  the  sails,  the  Nettie  started, 
and  in  half  an  hour  we  were  bounding  along  at  the  old 
terrific  rate.     What  a  day  of  smooth  sailing  that  was ! 


1 86  Starboard  and  Port. 

The  waves  fairly  glistened  with  sunlight,  and  the  sea 
was  of  that  deep  refreshing  blue  which  so  fascinates 
that  you  can  not  take  your  eyes  from  it,  while  the  air 
was  bracing  and  exhilarating  to  the  last  degree.  Every 
body  was  in  the  highest  spirits.  Fowler  was  at  the 
wheel,  and  he  never  once  let  her  up  as  the  gust  struck 
her,  but  kept  her  going  at  her  best  speed. 

"  This  is  ideal ! — this  is  superb  !"  said  Ruloff,  as  he 
paced  the  deck,  striking  his  chest,  and  taking  in  great 
draughts  of  pure  oxygen. 

"  Arn't  you  glad  you  were  born  ?"  said  Bertric,  "  and 
isn't  every  breath  a  separate  luxury?  The  crotchety 
old  fellow  who  said  that  the  people  who  are  dead  and 
buried  ought  to  be  thankful  never  came  to  the  St. 
Lawrence."  We  all  responded  to  the  sentiment,  for 
such  a  day  as  that  seldom  visits  our  planet. 

By  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  we  were  off  Rich- 
mond Harbor,  and  before  supper  we  had  passed  North 
Point,  and  laid  our  course  for  Chaleur  Bay.  Nothing 
is  more  interesting  than  to  notice  the  peculiarities  of 
the  shore  as  you  pass  it,  or  call  to  mind  the  salient 
points  in  the  history  of  the  people  who  inhabit  it. 
There  is  not  a  single  good  harbor — i.  e.,  a  harbor  easy 
of  access — on  the  whole  northern  shore  of  Prince  Ed- 
ward's. Every  bay  is  barricaded  by  sand-bars,  and  it  is 
impossible  to  get  in  without  the  aid  of  a  pilot,  unless 
you  are  thoroughly  acquainted.  The  light-houses  are 
all  good  and  sufficiently  numerous,  there  being  four  in 
the  ninety-five  miles  from  west  to  east.  It  is  a  sorry 
place,  however,  when  the  wind  is  strong  from  the 
north,  and  at  North  Point  we  saw  a  huge  three-master 
which  had  been  thrown  up  on  the  sand  stern  first. 


Along  Prince  Edward's.  187 

Sailors  are  not  overfond  of  this  shore,  because  in 
thick  weather  it  is  impossible  to  calculate  one's  bear- 
ing. The  wind  has  such  complete  control  over  the 
tides  that  the  water  sometimes  runs  one  way  for  days. 
No  tabular  account  of  tides  in  the  Gulf  is  of  any  value 
for  this  reason.  For  instance,  when  a  strong  southerly 
gale  is  blowing,  the  ebb  of  the  great  river  is  accelerated, 
and  the  waters  along  the  western  coast  of  Newfound- 
land are  piled  up  at  the  Strait  of  Belle  Isle,  and  the 
current  sets  to  the  northward  for  forty-eight  hours  or 
more.  When,  again,  the  wind  blows  from  the  north- 
east, this  accumulation  of  waters  is  driven  back,  and 
the  current  sets  through  the  Gut  of  Canso  for  an  equal 
length  of  time,  and  along  the  north  shore  of  Prince 
Edward's  with  such  extreme  irregularity  that  in  stormy 
weather  a  good  lookout  is  absolutely  necessary.  Noth- 
ing is  easier  than  to  make  a  fatal  mistake  in  this  mat- 
ter. The  Almanac  assures  you  that  the  tide  is  making 
to  the  southward,  and  in  the  thick  fog  or  the  cloudy 
darkness  you  lay  your  course  accordingly;  the  truth 
may  be  that  the  southerly  winds  which  have  prevailed 
for  a  week  past  have  piled  the  waters  up  to  the  north- 
ward, and  that  the  current  is  still  flowing  at  the  rate  of 
three  miles  an  hour  in  that  direction.  And  so  it  hap- 
pens that  while  you  are  sound  asleep  in  your  berth, 
perfectly  sure  that  every  thing  is  going  on  well,  your 
craft  is  slowly  but  surely  drifting  toward  the  low  line 
of  sand,  which  is  not  easily  discovered  in  a  dark  night, 
and  you  are  rudely  awakened  by  the  sharp  grating  of 
the  keel  which  is  the  death-knell  of  your  noble  vessel. 

When  we  were  off  Mirimichi,  just  to  the  westward 
of  Cape  North,  and  on  the  mainland,  we  read  an  ac- 


1 88  Starboard  and  Port. 

count  of  the  great  fire  which  laid  bare  the  whole  coun- 
try for  scores  of  miles  around  in  1825.  It  occurred 
after  a  long  season  of  drought,  and  the  dried  under- 
brush and  dead  wood,  together  with  the  resinous  quali- 
ty of  the  timber,  furnished  material  for  a  conflagration 
which  lasted  for  months.  It  filled  the  heavens  to  the 
westward  wMth  black  smoke,  which  at  night  glistened 
with  a  million  starry  sparks,  and  made  a  spectacle 
which  would  have  been  of  unparalleled  grandeur  but 
for  the  devastation  already  accomplished  and  the  great- 
er devastation  that  was  threatened.  On  the  6th  of  Oc- 
tober fitful  blazes  and  flashes  were  seen  just  back  of 
Newcastle  and  Douglastown,  while  the  woods  all  along 
the  banks  of  the  Bartibogue  were  filled  with  the  crack- 
ling and  falling  timber.  The  whole  firmament  seemed 
wrapped  in  a  vengeful  pall  of  vapor.  Huge  masses  of 
black  cloud  cut  through  by  flashes  of  fire,  as  though 
riven  by  lightning,  settled  down  on  the  whole  region, 
while  the  dull  thunder  of  the  fire-fiend's  progress  shook 
the  hearts  of  the  people  all  along  the  coast.  This 
smoke  so  thoroughly  pervaded  the  atmosphere  that  it 
produced  upon  the  inhabitants  an  unaccountable  lassi- 
tude and  stupefaction.  Showers  of  flaming  brands  fell 
on  the  little  towns,  which  were  as  rapidly  consumed 
as  so  much  tinder.  A  hurricane,  the  necessary  conse- 
quence of  so  much  heat,  bore  the  huge  clouds  aloft, 
until  they  looked  like  the  black  minarets  of  some  de- 
mon's temple,  while  the  crash  of  falling  timber  and  the 
sullen  roar  of  the  fire  sent  dismay  into  a  thousand 
hearts.  The  river  was  lashed  to  fury  by  the  wind,  and 
threw  its  boiling  spray  far  up  the  shore.  It  resembled 
in  its  windings  and  its  agonies  an  immense  serpent  in 


Along  Prince  Edward's.  189 

its  death  agony,  writhing,  tossing,  tumbling,  and  moan- 
ing in  its  fury.  You  can  form  some  dim  conception  of 
the  scene  if  you  will  imagine  a  conflagration  extending 
more  than  one  hundred  miles  over  the  country,  and 
covering  an  area  of  nearly  six  thousand  square  miles 
of  township  and  forest.  In  the  river  were  something 
like  one  hundred  and  fifty  vessels,  some  of  which  were 
burned  to  the  water's  edge,  while  others,  burning  and 
drifting  down  on  their  neighbors,  set  fire  to  their  rig- 
ging and  sails.  More  than  five  hundred  human  beings 
were  consumed,,  and  thousands  of  wild  beasts,  which 
afterward  filled  the  air  with  pestilent  contagion. 

After  reciting  all  these  scenes  to  each  other,  we  set 
our  watches  for  the  night  and  went  to  bed. 


I  go 


Starboard  and  Port. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

CIIALEUR    AND    PERCE. 

^^^Bs^  E  went  to  bed,  but  not  to  sleep.  In- 
stead of  going  down  as  usual,  the 
wind  freshened  to  half  a  gale  by 
eleven  o'clock,  with  a  promise  to 
increase  still  more  before  morning. 
v-r*    -  The  white-capped  waves  were  run- 

ning high,  and  every  few  minutes  we  took  a  mountain 
of  water  on  board  which  rushed  like  an  avenging  flood 
over  the  deck.  I  tried  in  vain  to  get  into  a  doze,  but 
though  I  wooed  sleep  in  the  most  persistent  manner, 
she  was  very  coy,  and  refused  to  come  near  me.  At 
one  time  I  would  lie  flat  on  my  back,  when  the  vessel 
rolled  and  pitched  in  such  unexpected  directions  that  I 
was  most  unceremoniously  tumbled  from  one  side  of 
the  berth  to  the  other.  Then  I  curled  my  knees  up 
and  braced  them  against  the  side,  determined  not  to 
yield,  but  in  a  moment  I  was  bounced  out  of  position, 
and  bumped  against  the  edge  of  the  berth  with  such 
force  that  I  determined  to  surrender  unconditionally, 
and  so  got  up  and  dressed.  But  dressing  under  such 
circumstances  is  no  light  task.  I  sat  down  on  a  chair 
to  put  my  stockings  on,  and  the  next  moment  found 
myself  sprawling  on  the  floor,  my  legs  in  air,  and  my 


Chaleur  and  Perce.  191 

head  suffering  from  contact  with  the  corner  of  my 
trunk.  Now  I  leaned  up  against  the  door  in  the  hope 
of  successfully  performing  that  series  of  gymnastics 
through  which  one  goes  when  he  tries  to  get  into  his 
pantaloons,  but  a  sudden  lurch  threw  me,  when  the 
work  was  half  completed,  against  the  berth,  and  man- 
aged to  snarl  up  legs,  pants,  and  arms  in  an  inextrica- 
ble tangle.  After  a  while,  however,  I  succeeded  in  get- 
ting into  my  clothes,  and  finding  my  way  on  deck. 
The  heavens  were  very  dark,  and  the  water  was  dash- 
ing about  the  bows  in  such  a  furious  manner  that  all  I 
could  see  forward  of  the  foremast  was  an  avalanche  of 
foam.  All  around  us,  as  far  as  eye  could  reach,  the  sea 
w^as  a  roaring,  tumbling  mass  of  white-caps. 

A  night  on  the  water  out  of  sight  of  land  is  a  very 
pleasant  experience.  One  is  constantly  under  the  il- 
lusion that  he  sees  lights,  that  he  hears  the  booming  of 
guns,  or  the  solemn  toll  of  the  fog-bell.  To  one  not 
yet  accustomed  to  the  ocean  this  is  exceedingly  pain- 
ful. He  looks  away  to  the  starboard,  or  over  on  the 
port  hand,  and  is  morally  certain  that  not  far  off  he 
detects  a  light  or  hears  a  noise,  and  has  the  feeling 
that  the  pilot  has  mistaken  his  course,  and  that  the 
vessel  is  going  directly  on  shore.  Then  every  thing  is 
magnified  at  night :  the  waves  seem  higher,  the  wind 
blows  more  fiercely,  the  ship  heels  over  more,  the 
rigging  is  straining,  and  pretty  nearly  every  thing  is 
coming  to  pieces. 

The  captain  seemed  very  cheery,  however,  and  that 
reassured  me  completely. 

"Isn't  the  old  girl  just  trotting  along!"  he  said,  as 
he  took  a  seat  by  my  side. 


192  Starboard  and  Port. 

"  Yes ;  but  don't  you  think  it  a  wild  sort  of  night  ?" 
I  suggested. 

"  Wild  ?  Oh,  no,"  he  replied ;  "  one  could  not  ask 
for  a  better  time  than  this.  The  top -hamper  is  all 
snugly  stowed,  we  have  a  free  wind,  and  are  jogging  on 
at  the  rate  of  twelve  knots  by  the  log.  What  can  any 
man  want  more  ?"   ' 

I  brought  the  wolf-robe  and  a  pillow  on  deck,  and 
never  enjoyed  any  thing  so  much  in  my  life.  The 
Nettie  would  struggle  up  a  huge  wave  until  she  turned 
the  summit,  and  then  rush  down  the  other  side  as 
though  she  were  bound  to  bury  herself  under  the  next 
boulder.  Indeed,  it  has  always  seemed  to  me  a  mira- 
cle that  a  vessel  should  rise  just  at  the  right  moment. 
Why  she  does  not  contrive  to  sink  when  once  she  be- 
gins is  a  mystery.  But  when  she  has  thrust  her  jib- 
boom  into  the  wave  ahead  of  her,  and  it  is  on  the  very 
point  of  coming  aboard,  and  is  curling  and  cresting  for 
that  purpose,  hesitating  before  taking  the  final  leap, 
the  bows  begin  to  lift,  the  stern  settles  down,  and  the 
danger  is  over.  How  many  times  I  have  sat  at  the 
cat-head  and  watched  a  huge  seventh  or  tenth  wave  as 
it  came  on  in  its  magnificence,  and  felt  certain  that  its 
crystal  walls  would  break  at  the  bows,  and  that  we 
should  be  flooded  by  a  deck-load  of  salt  water.  The 
vessel  has  risen  to  the  top  of  the  wave,  and  then  com- 
menced that  descent  which  produces  such  a  peculiar 
and  unpleasant  feeling  in  the  abdominal  regions  of  sen- 
sitive natures.  She  plunges  headlong  into  the  boiling 
mass  entirely  reckless  of  consequences,  and,  before  you 
have  recovered  from  the  shiver  that  runs  through  you, 
she  groans  as  she  dashes  the  water  away,  and  slowly, 


Chaleur  and  Perce.  193 

oh,  so  slowly  at  first  that  your  heart  sinks  within  you, 
rises,  with  only  a  few  buckctfuls  of  the  briny  splash  on 
deck. 

With  the  same  kind  of  wonder  I  have  watched  a 
horse  manipulate,  as  it  were,  his  feet.  It  has  always 
seemed  a  miracle  that  his  hind-feet  never  tread  on  his 
fore-feet,  for  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world  would 
be  for  his  hind-quarters  to  run  over  the  fore-quarters. 
The  front-foot  clings  to  the  pavement  until  the  hind- 
foot  comes  within  half  an  inch  of  it,  when,  just  in  the 
nick  of  time,  it  is  got  out  of  the  way,  only  to  be  put 
in  the  same  dangerous  position  the  next  moment. 
I  have  looked  at  this  spectacle,  which  has  a  kind  of 
fascination,  until  I  have  grown  so  nervous  that  I  had 
to  hold  on  to  the  seat,  momentarily  expecting  the 
creature  to  fairly  run  over  himself,  or  roll  himself  up 
in  a  ball. 

At  about  two  o'clock  the  next  morning  Ruloff 
showed  his  head  above  the  companion-way  with  a — 

"  Well,  captain,  w^iat  are  you  doing?" 

"  Doing  nothing  but  going  ahead,  and  that  at  a 
spanking  pace,  too," 

"  I  wish  you  wouldn't  make  so  much  fuss  about  it, 
though,"  continued  Ruloff;  "  not  a  wink  of  sleep  have 
I  had  yet.  That  berth  of  mine  is  as  uneasy  as  a  chest- 
nut in  the  fire.  I  have  been  knocked  about  until  I 
feel  like  an  enormous  bruise." 

"  Old  Boreas  is  doing  his  best  to  -  night,"  cried 
Stigand,  as  he  emerged  soon  after.  And  at  that,  as 
though  in  proof  of  his  assertion,  the  wind  quietly 
lifted  his  hat  from  his  head,  carried  it  half  w^ay  up 
the  mainsail,  and  then  bore  it  triumphantly  away. 

I 


194  Starboard  and  Port. 

"  Well,  that's  a  pretty  trick  to  play  a  fellow  who 
hasn't  closed  his  eyes  all  night,"  he  continued ;  and 
then  did  what  every  man  does  who  loses  his  hat  under 
similar  circumstances — that  is,  suddenly  put  both  hands 
on  his  head,  with  the  idea  that  an  imaginary  hat  is  still 
there,  or  under  the  delusion  that  his  hair  will  soon  fol- 
low his  hat.  Every  body  slaps  his  head  when  he  loses 
his  hat.  It  may  be  that  the  wind  communicates  the 
information  to  the  muscles  of  the  arm  at  the  instant 
the  hat  begins  to  rise,  and  the  arm  and  hand  are  a  lit- 
tle sluggish  in  their  movements,  or  it  may  be  for  some 
other  metaphysical  reason  which  I  am  unable  to  give ; 
but  I  never  yet  saw  a  man  lose  his  hat  without  imme- 
diately clutching  his  hair. 

Perhaps  it  would  be  no  more  than  fair  to  give  an- 
other reason  for  the  general  appearance  of  the  gentle- 
men on  deck  that  night.  I  have  referred  to  the  costly 
purchase  of  a  fox  in  a  previous  chapter.  Allow  me 
now  to  recall  an  episode  in  which  he  was  one  of  the 
chief  actors.  While  the  novelty  of  his  presence  lasted 
he  was  allowed  to  do  pretty  much  as  he  pleased,  and 
his  antics  were  of  the  most  grotesque  kind.  He  was 
not  a  particle  afraid  of  the  dog,  who  in  lumbering  fash- 
ion chased  him  over  the  deck,  when  at  length,  tired  of 
the  little  game,  Reynard  would  make  a  short  turn,  run 
back  on  his  track,  and  get  into  a  snug  hiding-place, 
while  the  dog,  in  the  vain  attempt  to  turn  suddenly, 
tripped  over  a  coil  of  rope,  and  rolled  over  and  over. 
The  little  dog — we  had  two  on  board — which  was  one 
of  the  tiniest  of  black-and-tans,  by  no  means  so  large 
as  the  fox,  would  once  in  a  while  resent  the  continued 
teasing  of  Reynard,  who  delighted  to  walk  over  him 


i 


I 


Chaleiir  and  Perec.  195 

or  lie  down  on  him  when  he  felt  disposed  to  take  a 
nap,  and  with  a  growl  which  displayed  his  white  teeth 
to  perfection  would  set  on  him.  At  such  times  the 
fox,  whose  offensive  weapons  did  not  lie  in  his  jaws, 
would  suddenly  wheel  round  and  present  the  other  end 
of  himself  to  the  dog,  who  fastened  his  teeth  into  the 
fur,  and  generally  came  out  of  the  conflict  with  such  a 
mouthful  of  hair  that  for  the  next  half- hour  he  was 
perfectly  miserable. 

On  this  particular  night  the  fox  got  loose,  and  roam- 
ed at  his  own  sweet  will.  With  his  long  chain  attached 
to  his  neck,  he  came  rattling  down  the  cabin  steps, 
which  w^ere  covered  with  brass,  ran  around  among  the 
table  and  chair  legs  and  into  the  kitchen,  with  such 
resounding  and  distracting  noise  that  sleep  became  an 
impossibility.  Bertric  got  up,  eji  deshabille,  and  chased 
him.  But  in  the  dark  it  was  no  easy  task  to  catch 
the  fellow.  What  with  the  rolling  and  pitching  of  the 
vessel,  added  to  the  miraculous  gyrations  of  the  fox, 
it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  if  a  few  plain  English 
words  expressed  the  utter  disgust  of  Bertric  at  being 
compelled  to  engage  in  a  fox-chase  at  midnight  when 
it  was  difficult  to  keep  one's  feet  under  the  most  pro- 
pitious circumstances. 

"  There,  you  rascal !  I've  got  you !"  he  cried  at 
length,  as  he  grasped  the  fur  on  the  back  of  Mr.  Fox. 
"  You  hideous  wretch !  why  did  we  ever  pay  two  dol- 
lars and  a  half  for  you  ?"  Then  he  continued  in  a  de- 
lightful monologue :  "  And  why  wern't  you  content 
with  your  native  woods,  instead  of  spoiling  the  tem- 
pers of  Christian  folk  ?     Ugh  !  how  cold  it  is  !" 

The  poor  fellow  shivered  as  he  carried  the  animal 


1 96  Starboard  and  Port. 

oil  deck,  struggling  all  the  while  to  get  loose,  and 
chained  him,  as  he  thought,  securely  to  his  barrel. 

He  had,  however,  no  sooner  returned  to  his  berth 
than  the  same  rattling  was  heard,  and  with  a  groan  of 
despair  Bertric  turned  over  in  his  berth,  muttering, 

"  Well,  some  one  else  must  try  his  hand  at  that  thing 
this  time.  I'm  actually  shivering  with  cold,  and  won't 
get  up  again  for  all  the  foxes  that  ever  stole  chickens." 

A  general  chuckle  was  heard,  which  showed  that  the 
gentlemen  were  all  awake,  and  had  enjoyed  the  epi- 
sode. 

Pretty  soon  the  fox  jumped  through  one  of  the  dead- 
lights, and  landed,  chain  and  all,  on  the  cabin  floor,  with 
a  noise  which  compelled  a  dismal  "Oh  dear!"  to  come 
from  behind  every  curtain.  Reynard  leaped  into  one 
of  the  berths  with  the  expectation  of  snuggling  down 
for  the  night,  when  the  occupant  defeated  his  good  in- 
tentions by  giving  him  a  push  which  sent  him  into  the 
middle  of  the  cabin.  This  experiment  was  tried  on 
every  sleeper,  until  at  last  Stigand,  in  sheer  despera- 
tion, got  up,  saying,  "  I'm  going  to  throw  that  fellow 
overboard ;"  and,  grabbing  him  in  a  way  that  indicated 
earnestness  of  character,  carried  him  back  to  his  barrel, 
where  he  was  made  so  fast  that  the  knot  was  untied 
with  great  difficulty  the  next  day. 

What  a  magnificent  sunrise  we  had  the  next  morn- 
ing!  I  saw  it,  not  because  I  wanted  to,  but  because  I 
had  to.  I  would  have  greatly  preferred  to  be  quietly 
asleep,  and  to  have  taken  the  grandeur  of  the  occasion 
on  the  word  of  another,  but  nevertheless  it  was  a  sight 
not  to  be  forgotten.  The  dull,  gray  clouds  had  settled 
in  the  eastern  horizon  in  huge   masses,  while  above 


Chaleur  and  Perch  197 

long  stretches  of  dark  vapor  lay  athwart  the  sky.  A 
faint  tint  of  red  suffused  them  all  at  first,  and  then  it 
deepened,  until  the  whole  heavens  in  that  direction 
seemed  to  fairly  blaze  with  rich  glory.  Then  the  up- 
per disk  of  the  sun  was  seen  just  above  the  horizon, 
and  soon  after  the  full  round  orb,  of  an  orange  color, 
which  brightened  until  the  eye  could  no  longer  look 
upon  it,  and  day  was  fairly  upon  us. 

"  Land  on  the  port  bow !"  cried  John. 

It  was  Miscou  Island,  at  the  southern  entrance  to 
Chaleur  Bay — at  least  so  the  pilot  affirmed. 

"  Impossible  !"  we  all  cried  at  once.  "  We  can  not 
have  come  so  far  in  so  short  a  time." 

*'  Let  her  off  a  point,"  said  the  captain  to  the  man 
at  the  wheel.  "  Come  aft,  now,  and  ease  the  sheets. 
There,  that  will  do  ;  now  let  her  travel." 

And  we  did  travel.  The  yacht  felt  the  slackening 
of  the  sheets,  and  we  fairly  whizzed  through  the  water. 

"  We  shall  sight  Bonaventura  in  an  hour,"  prophe- 
sied Edwards,  "  and  then  you  will  see  ducks,  if  you 
never  saw  them  before." 

What  a  grand  sheet  of  water  Chaleur  Bay  is,  to  be 
sure.  It  is  the  finest  and  largest  harbor  in  the  Gulf  of 
St.  Lawrence.  It  is  about  twenty-five  miles  wide  at  its 
mouth,  and  runs  inland  to  the  mouth  of  the  Resti- 
gouche  nearly  seventy-five  miles.  About  twenty-two 
miles  to  the  eastward  of  Miscou  is  a  huge  sand-bank 
with  from  twenty  to  thirty  fathoms  of  water,  and  there 
at  almost  any  season  are  to  be  seen  scores  of  schooners 
fishing  for  cod. 

Sure  enough,  in  an  hour  the  lookout  cried,  "  Land 
richt  ahead  !"  and  we  were  within  ten  miles  of  Bona- 


198  Starboard  and  Port. 

Ventura.  It  is  a  picturesque  spot,  with  perpendicular 
cliffs  of  red  sandstone  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet  high 
to  the  seaward,  and  falling  off  at  the  westerly  end  to  a 
pebbly  beach. 

In  these  rocky  cliffs  thousands  of  gannets  and  tens 
of  thousands  of  medrakes  and  cormorants  build  their 
houses.  When  we  were  just  opposite  we  fired  our 
guns,  and  there  arose  from  the  great  fissures  in  the 
cliff  flocks  of  birds  so  numerous  that  we  were  fairly 
startled. 

"  Now  for  sport !"  cried  Flctch.  "  We'll  run  into 
Perc(^,  and  have  such  a  day's  shooting  as  those  birds 
have  never  heard  tell  of." 

"  Oh,  you  can  shoot  till  you  are  tired,  and  there  will 
be  plenty  of  game  left  for  the  next  comer,"  said  Ed- 
wards, quietly. 

The  Nettie  was  put  on  the  other  tack — not  an  easy 
thing  to  accomplish  in  such  a  heavy  sea — during  which 
few  minutes  we  were  tossed  so  furiously  that  it  seemed 
as  if  every  line  in  the  vessel  would  snap,  and  then  we 
bounded  along  at  a  great  rate  for  the  little,  but,  except 
in  a  southwest  wind,  dangerous  harbor  of  Perce. 

Perce  is  one  of  the  neatest  villages  I  ever  visited. 
Its  inhabitants  are  French,  and  they  retain  with  un- 
daunted persistency  the  simplicity  which  has  always 
been  attributed  to  the  Acadians.  The  few  streets  of 
the  village  are  smooth  and  well  taken  care  of.  The 
houses  are  all  comfortable,  and  have  a  decided  air  of 
thrift  about  them.  Just  in  the  rear  of  the  village  rises 
Mount  Perc^,  or  Table  Roulante,  as  it  is  sometimes 
called,  to  the  unusual  height  of  1230  feet  above  the 
sea -level,  and  visible  from  a  distance  of  forty  miles. 


Chalctir  and  Perce.  199 

It  is  well  wooded,  but  has  a  fair  forest-road  leading  to 
the  summit,  from  which  the  scenery  is  too  exquisite  to 
be  described.  The  fishermen,  who  compose  the  inhab- 
itants of  the  village,  set  their  nets  regularly  at  sunrise, 
and  gather  in  their  spoils  at  sundown.  A  hundred 
boats  are  shoved  off  from  the  beach  every  day,  while 
the  air  is  filled  with  the  rollicking  songs  of  the  toilers. 
They  are  a  happy,  honest  folk,  and  the  manufactories 
where  the  fish  are  cured  are  models  of  neatness  and 
business  thrift.  Nowhere  on  the  coast  is  such  another 
spot  to  be  found. 

The  next  morning  Fletch  and  I  went  out  of  town 
to  a  little  stream  just  back  of  Table  Roulante,  and  en- 
joyed a  few  hours  of  fine  trout-fishing.  The  game 
was  not  large,  but  numerous.  We  creeled  several 
dozen,  but  our  pleasure  was  somewhat  lessened  by  the 
army  of  mosquitoes  and  black  flies  which  attacked 
every  exposed  part  of  our  persons.  To  this  pest  the 
midge  joined  forces,  and  altogether  we  had  many  more 
bites  than  fish.  However,  the  drive  into  the  country 
and  along  the  beautiful  beach  just  west  of  the  village 
repaid  us  for  our  temporary  unhappiness,  and  we  re- 
turned to  the  yacht,  with  our  speckled  treasures  and 
mottled  faces,  with  an  appetite  which  no  city  life  has 
any  conception  of.  And  here  let  me  observe  that  one 
of  the  charms  of  yachting  is  the  appetite  it  develops, 
and  the  general  physical  condition  it  induces.  One  is 
necessarily  in  the  open  air  all  the  time.  By  day,  though 
lounging  about  on  deck,  he  is  conscious  of  the  up- 
building that  is  going  on  in  his  system,  and  by  night 
he  sleeps  with  the  sky-light  and  the  dead-lights  open, 
which  makes  the  boat  the  equivalent  of  a  tent  in  the 


200  Starboard  a?id  Port. 

woods.  The  wind  whistles  through,  and  he  wakes  in 
the  morning  as  fresh  as  a  daisy,  and  with  a  perfect 
wilhngness  to  engage  in  any  undertaking,  however 
arduous.  It  is  worth  something  to  have  one's  animal 
spirits  at  high-water  mark ;  and  it  is  a  good  sign  when 
one  tumbles  out  of  his  berth,  not  lazily  and  languidly, 
as  though  he  had  just  been  through  an  ordeal  and 
scarcely  survived  it,  but  with  a  leap  and  a  jump,  as 
though  sleep  had  done  its  work  in  getting  him  into 
good  fighting  condition. 

"  Cup  coffee,  sir  ?"  said  Ah  Boo  every  morning  at 
about  six.  That  was  his  only  matutinal  greeting ; 
and  then,  knowing  what  the  answer  would  be,  he  hur- 
ried to  the  kitchen  with  a  low  chuckle  to  get  the  de- 
licious compound. 

"  Coffee,  steward  ?  Yes,  and  any  thing  else  you  can 
find  on  board  in  the  way  of  eatables,"  was  the  usual 
answer  sent  after  his  retreating  form. 

At  sea  one's  digestive  apparatus  gets  into  admirable 
working  order,  and  it  is  absolutely  necessary  to  keep  a 
good  lookout  for  the  commissary  department. 

"  Now  then,"  said  Ruloff,  after  dinner  had  been  dis- 
posed of,  "  let's  be  off  to  Arch  Rock." 

I  have  left  this  magnificent  piece  of  nature  to  the 
present  moment  that  I  might  bring  it  out  in  strong 
relief.  It  is  one  of  the  curiosities  of  the  continent,  and 
well  repays  a  visit  from  any  distance.  It  is  an  abrupt, 
precipitous  rock,  that  rises  perpendicularly  from  the 
water  to  the  height  of  nearly  three  hundred  feet, 
and  in  its  contour  is  not  unlike  a  huge  vessel.  We 
approached  its  bows,  the  western  end,  and  it  seemed 
to  us  very  like  the  Great  Eastern,  which  had  come  to 


Chalcur  and  Perce.  201 

anchor  on  this  northern  coast.  At  the  Percti  end  it  is 
sharp  like  the  bows  of  a  vessel,  while  at  the  other  end 
it  rounds  like  its  stern.  It  is  about  fifteen  hundred 
feet  long,  and  has  two  natural  arches,  through  which 
boats  can  float  at  high  tide,  and  one  of  which  is  plainly 
visible  many  miles  at  sea. 

When  one  lands  at  its  base  he  is  compelled,  as  it 
were,  to  look  twice  before  his  vision  reaches  the  top  ; 
that  is,  he  looks  at  a  point  that  is  as  high  as  he  has 
before  conceived  the  rock  to  be,  and  finds  that  it  is  only 
half-way  up.  Then,  after  resting  his  eyes  for  a  mo- 
ment, he  looks  far  up  into  the  distance,  and  sees  there 
overhanging  edges  of  rough,  rugged  rock,  which  seem 
as  if  they  were  about  to  fall  and  crush  him.  We  sat 
or  lay  down  on  the  beach,  scarcely  speaking  to  each 
other  for  a  full  half-hour,  perfectly  satisfied  with  sim- 
ply gazing  at  the  monster. 

Then  Fletch  was  called  back  from  his  reverie  by 
a  huge  yellowish  plover  strutting  along  the  shore. 
Poor  plover !  his  time  had  come  to  be  metamorphosed 
into  one  of  the  ingredients  of  a  pie,  and  he  submitted 
to  his  fate  without  a  murmur.  Our  journey  round  the 
base  of  the  rock  was  a  constant  surprise.  Here,  for 
instance,  was  a  pebbly  beach  in  the  shape  of  a  horse- 
shoe, and  about  fifty  feet  long,  while  immediately  be- 
hind it  was  a  cavern  in  the  rock,  hollowed  out  by  the 
waves  of  a  thousand  years,  the  sides  of  which  w^ere  as 
smooth  as  polished  marble.  There,  just  beyond,  was 
the  first  arch,  about  ten  feet  high,  and  twelve  or  fifteen 
feet  wide.  The  tide  ebbed  and  flowed  through  It,  and 
it  looked  more  like  the  well-calculated  handiwork  of 
man  than  the   result   of  natural  forces.     And   there 

I  2 


202  Starboard  and  Port. 

again,  farther  on,  was  the  large  arch,  about  twenty 
feet  high,  and  perhaps  twenty -five  broad,  which  we 
had  seen  when  six  or  eight  miles  away,  and  which 
gives  the  rock  its  name. 

We  scrambled  through  it,  and  got  a  grand  view  of 
the  rock  from  the  other  side ;  then  determined  to  come 
down  from  the  poetical  to  the  practical  by  trying  our 
guns  on  the  various  kinds  of  birds  which  filled  the  air. 
Imagination  alone  can  compute  the  numbers  of  gulls 
and  cormorants  which  inhabit  this  romantic  spot,  for 
no  human  arithmetic  can  approximate  to  the  sum 
total.  We  paddled  off  almost  twenty  rods  from  the 
rock,  and  looking  up  saw  every  ledge  that  jutted  out 
from  this  entire  surface  literally  packed  with  birds. 
When  they  flew,  they  flew  in  enormous  crowds,  and 
their  choral  screeches  could  be  heard  at  a  fabulous  dis- 
tance. We  were  told  that  on  the  top  of  the  rock  are 
tens  of  thousands  of  eggs  ;  that  in  former  times  an  ad- 
venturer would  once  in  a  while  scale  the  dizzy  height 
for  purposes  of  curiosity  or  gain,  but  that  the  feat 
was  of  such  a  dangerous  nature  that  a  law  had  been 
recently  passed  prohibiting  it  under  severe  penalty. 
But  besides  the  danger  of  climbing  these  unruly  crags, 
some  of  which  are  unpleasantly  loose,  and  give  under 
one's  weight,  is  to  be  taken  into  account  the  fierce  on- 
slaughts of  the  birds.  It  is  as  much  as  a  man's  life  is 
worth  to  invade  the  possessions  of  the  gulls.  It  may 
seem  very  like  a  sailor's  yarn  to  say  that  these  creat- 
ures in  immense  numbers  are  a  formidable  enemy,  but 
such  nevertheless  is  the  truth.  They  can  not  be 
frightened  by  the  discharge  of  a  gun,  for  they  are  ex- 
ceedingly loyal  in  their  parental  love,  nor  can  they  be 


Chaleitr  and  Perce.  203 

beaten  off  with  clubs.  They  swoop  down  on  one  wath 
a  kind  of  war-whoop,  and  with  their  sharp  bills  make 
sad  havoc  with  one's  clothes  and  flesh,  and  have  a 
particular  fancy  for  one's  eyes.  At  any  rate,  the  in- 
habitants of  the  village,  though  covetous  of  gulls'  eggs, 
have  no  inclination  to  risk  themselves  on  the  top  of 
Arch  Rock. 

After  a  few  discharges  of  our  guns,  a  division  of  the 
grand  army  took  its  flight,  and  in  dizzy  circles  cut 
the  air  above  our  heads.  We  managed,  after  patiently 
waiting  for  them  to  return  from  their  lofty  height,  to 
drop  a  few  of  the  medrakes,  whose  wings  seemed  to  be 
in  demand,  and  one  or  two  of  the  immense  gray  gulls, 
which  have  bodies  no  larger  than  a  full-grown  chicken, 
but  wings  large  enough  to  carry  a  good-sized  boy  well 
up  toward  the  moon.  The  cormorants  are  also  huge 
birds,  with  coarse,  dissonant  voices,  and  wings  as  dark 
as  night.  They  look  clumsy  as  geese  in  the  distance, 
with  their  long  necks  stretched  out,  but  they  manage 
to  keep  out  of  range  in  their  rapid  flight.  All  over 
the  water  w^ere  scattered  sea-pigeons,  which  can  be  had 
in  any  numbers.  They  are  too  fishy  to  satisfy  an  ordi- 
nary palate,  though  they  do  very  well  as  a  side  dish. 

The  next  morning  it  was  blowing  heavily,  and,  as 
the  wind  threatened  a  change,  we  determined  to  get 
away  as  soon  as  possible.  So  our  anchor  was  weighed, 
and  we  started  across  Mai  Bay  for  the  Bay  of  Gaspe. 

Gaspe  Bay  is  very  small  in  comparison  with  Chaleur 
Bay,  but  in  many  respects  it  is  not  less  important  or 
remarkable.  At  its  entrance,  and  on  the  northeast 
side,  is  Cape  Gaspe,  a  headland  of  limestone,  the 
terminus  of  a  magnificent  range  of  cliffs,  which  rise 


204  Starboard  and  Port. 

nearly  seven  hundred  feet  above  the  sca-levcl,  and  in 
many  places  arc  almost  perpendicular.  On  the  south 
side  the  shore  is  also  very  bold,  and  several  good-sized 
streams  pour  over  the  bluffs  in  a  white  sheet  of  snowy 
foam,  adding  greatly  to  the  fascinations  of  a  very 
charming  landscape.  As  you  enter  the  bay  the  scene 
is  of  the  most  ravishing  description.  The  shore  to  the 
right  is  quite  thickly  settled  by  fishermen,  whose  little 
cottages,  with  the  background  of  forest  and  foreground 
of  water,  are  romantic  to  the  last  degree.  On  the  left, 
just  within  the  bay,  and  beyond  Red  Head,  is  the  town 
of  Douglas,  where  vessels  can  find  a  good  harbor  with 
still  water.  And  away  off  in  the  distance,  right  before 
you,  rise  the  mountains,  upon  whose  tops  the  clouds 
seem  to  settle,  as  though  they  took  pride  in  making 
the  picture  perfect. 

But  the  most  curious  and  valuable  peculiarity  of 
Gaspe  is  what  is  called  the  Basin.  This  is  a  sheet  of 
water  at  the  northwestern  end  of  the  bay,  on  which 
the  town  of  Gaspe  is  situated,  so  entirely  landlocked 
that  it  is  as  quiet  as  a  mill-pond,  even  in  the  roughest 
weather.  No  matter  how  or  which  way  the  wind 
blows,  not  the  faintest  perceptible  undulation,  not 
even  the  dimmest  and  most  indistinct  echo  of  a  swell, 
ever  intrudes.  It  is  an  ideal  anchorage,  large  enough 
to  accommodate  a  fleet,  and  with  water  enough  to  float 
the  largest  of  them  all. 

Having  come  to  anchor  here,  with  the  expectation 
of  spending  about  a  week  on  the  salmon  rivers  and  in 
the  woods,  we  filled  up  our  ice-chest  and  water-tanks, 
and  made  arrangements  to  have  the  commissary  well 
taken  care  of.    This  was  the  farthest  point  north  we  in- 


Chaleiir  and  Perce,  205 

tended  to  make.  It  would  have  been  delightful  to  have 
run  over  to  Anticosti,  but  thirty  miles  away,  or  across 
to  the  Mingan  Islands  and  the  Labrador  coast,  about 
fifty  more,  but  one's  appetite  is  never  satisfied,  and  so 
we  left  these  things  for  another  year.  There  is  some- 
thing wonderful  about  ocean  traveling.  You  may 
go  as  far  as  you  please,  but  you  always  want  to  see 
the  next  place.  You  are  never  satisfied,  but  forever 
dreaming  of  new  pleasures  and  new  discoveries  for 
the  morrow.  Our  time  was  limited,  however,  and  we 
were  compelled  to  restrain  at  once  our  curiosity  and 
our  love  of  adventure. 

There  are  only  about  one  or  two  hundred  inhabitants 
in  Gaspe,  part  of  which,  those  on  the  northerly  side  of 
the  Basin,  are  English  and  Scotch,  while  the  rest,  those 
on  the  southerly  side,  are  French.  There  is  one  church 
in  the  village,  the  Episcopal,  finely  situated  on  the 
side  of  a  hill,  overlooking  the  northern  arm,  but  with 
such  interior  accommodations  that  the  patience  of  the 
saintly  is  severely  tried,  while  the  temper  of  the  pro- 
fane is  lost  entirely.  We  worshiped  with  the  little 
congregation  one  afternoon,  and  marveled  that  it  was 
possible  to  crowd  so  much  discomfort  into  so  small  a 
space.  Why  is  it,  I  wonder,  that  you  are  allowed,  at 
home,  to  sit  in  a  chair  with  such  an  incline  to  its  back 
that  you  are  rested,  while  in  some  churches  to  sit 
down  is  torture,  and  to  stand  up  is  impossible  ?  If  I 
had  a  boy  whom  I  wanted  to  bring  up  in  such  fashion 
that  he  would  never  cross  the  threshold  of  a  church 
after  his  twenty-first  birthday,  I  would  send  him  to  some 
village  church  like  that  at  Gaspe,  or  like  most  of  the 
churches  along  the  coast,  where  he  could  neither  lean 


2o6  Starboard  and  Port. 

back  nor  yet  sit  up  straight,  but  must  needs  lean  for- 
ward just  enough  to  be  wretched,  and  endure  the  tor- 
ment of  having  the  ornamental  rim  on  the  top  of  the 
pew  cut  across  his  back.  If  he  did  not  eschew  all 
forms  of  religion  after  that,  it  would  be  because  his 
parentage  was  too  much  for  him. 

We  paid  a  visit  the  next  day  to  the  customs  officers, 
who  were  very  kind  and  considerate  to  us  as  owners 
of  a  vessel  from  foreign  parts,  and  also  to  the  gentle- 
manly American  consul,  who  gave  us  a  refreshing  peep 
into  New  York  and  Boston  papers. 

For  a  day  or  two  we  simply  rested,  only  diverting 
ourselves  by  a  ride  of  a  few  miles  into  the  country, 
reading  and  writing  letters,  fishing  from  the  deck  of 
the  yacht,  or  catching  a  few  smelt  nearer  shore.  The 
Indians,  who  have  an  insignificant  settlement  a  few 
miles  back  of  the  town,  brought  us  fresh  strawberries 
every  morning,  and  a  farmer  supplied  us  with  rich 
cream.  In  point  of  comfort,  if  not  of  luxury,  therefore, 
our  position  was  one  not  exactly  to  be  despised. 


Indian  Canoes. 


207 


CHAPTER  XII. 


INDIAN     CANOES. 


^OME  up,  gentlemen!"  cried  Stigand, 
the  next  morning? after  breakfast  ; 
"  here  are  some  Indians  coming 
aboard." 

"  What !"   said    Bertric,  "  real,  live 
Indians?     Oh,  my  scalp!" 
"  They  are  only  Mic-Macs,"  said  Ruloff ;  "■  a  very  gen- 
tle and  harmless  race.    You  can  keep  the  capillaries  on 
your  crown  until  you  lose  them  by  natural  process." 

"Yes,  but  isn't  the  knife  of  a  Mic-Mac  as  sharp  as 
that  of  a  Choctaw  ?"  responded  Bertric  ;  "  and  does  it 
make  any  difference  by  whom  you  lose  your  scalp,  if 
only  you  lose  it  ?  I  don't  like  the  noble  red  man. 
The  roots  of  my  hair  begin  to  tingle  at  the  very 
thought  of  him," 

"  You  needn't  be  afraid  of  these  fellows  ;  they  are 
as  tame  as  sheep,  and  only  want  to  sell  wild  straw- 
berries, and  go  fishing  with  you." 

So  we  all  rushed  up  to  see  the  Micks,  as  some  one 
called  them.  They  were  a  couple  of  stalwart  fellows, 
tawny  as  tanned  leather,  with  long  black  hair  stream- 
ing down  on  their  shoulders.  They  wore  no  scalps  at 
their  belt,  neither  did  they  brandish  a  tomahawk. 
*'  Go  fishing,  sir?"  said  one  of  them  to  me. 


2o8  Starboard  and  Port. 

"  What  kind  of  fish  do  you  get,  John  ?" 

"Trout — white  trout,  so  long,"  making  a  motion 
with  his  hands,  which  left  mc  somewhat  in  doubt 
whether  he  meant  to  measure  off  a  foot  or  a  yard. 
"Brook  trout  too  —  O,  very  much  big;  and  ducks 
plenty." 

"  Where  do  you  go  to  get  them  ?" 

"  Up  Dartmouth.    Only  five  miles.    Back  by  night." 

"  How  do  you  get  there  ?" 

"  In  canoe.     Dad  has  one — I  have  one." 

"  Are  those  things  easy  to  get  into  ?"  asked  Ruloff. 

"  Yes,"  broke  in  Bertric,  "  and  a  good  deal  easier  to 
get  out  of,  I  should  judge." 

They  were  very  pretty  canoes,  and  altogether  the 
excursion  was  a  tempting  one.  Two  kinds  pf  trout, 
a  long  talk  with  real  Indians,  a  ride  in  a  canoe,  and 
perhaps  a  few  wood-ducks  would  make  a  very  agree- 
able day's  sport ;  so  we  agreed  to  start  the  next  morn- 
ing at  eight. 

There  is  no  prettier  sailing  than  in  a  birch.  After 
you  once  get  used  to  it,  and  can  balance  yourself,  the 
motion  is  rhythmic  and  delightful.  It  does  not  cut 
through  the  water  as  does  an  ordinary  boat — with  a 
constant  splash  at  the  bows — but  seems  to  glide  over 
the  surface,  as  though  it  scarcely  deigned  to  touch  it. 
Light  as  an  egg-shell,  the  sturdy  strength  of  the  guide 
drives  it  along  at  an  inconceivable  pace. 

When  I  was  younger,  and  used  to  frequent  the  wilds 
of  Maine,  I  became  greatly  enamored  of  this  mode  of 
traveling.  I  distinctly  remember  my  first  experience, 
and  laugh  even  now  when  I  recall  the  incident  which 
left  me  a  "  moist,  unpleasant  body."     My  guide — I  had 


Indian  Canoes.  209 

engaged  him  the  day  before — came  trudging  along  the 
road  with  the  birch  on  his  shoulder.  He  was  a  man  of 
rare  beauty.  Full  six  feet  high,  with  a  chest  which  a 
basso  profondo  would  have  envied,  he  handled  the 
canoe  as  easily  as  you  or  I  would  a  gun.  When  we 
reached  the  river  bank,  he  gave  it  a  light  and  graceful 
toss,  and  it  fell  like  a  huge  snow-flake  in  the  stream 
about  seven  feet  from  shore.  Then,  thrusting  one  end 
of  his  long  paddle  into  the  bottom  of  the  river,  and 
bearing  a  part  of  his  weight  on  the  other,  he  gave  a 
spring  and  landed  in  the  canoe,  which  seemed  to  be  as 
steady  under  him  as  a  man-of-war. 

The  feat  was  performed  with  such  apparent  ease  that 
the  real  difficulty  of  achieving  it  was  hidden  from  my 
sight.  I  was  tempted  by  an  evil  spirit  to  make  the 
experiment  myself. 

"  Come  out,  Harry,  and  see  me  do  that."  In  an  in- 
stant he  was  by  my  side,  handing  me  the  paddle,  but 
w'ith  just  the  shadow  of  an  incredulous  look  on  his 
face,  wdiich  made  me  more  determined  than  ever  to 
astonish  him  by  my  agility  and  skill.  So,  imitating  my 
leader,  I  stuck  the  blade  of  my  paddle  into  the  bottom, 
and,  holding  firmly  to  the  other  end,  sprang.  Some- 
how I  think  the  knack  of  the  thing  is  more  in  the 
way  in  which  you  strike  than  in  the  way  in  which 
you  jump.  I  accomplished  the  feat  to  perfection  until 
that  critical  and  decisive  moment  when  my  feet  touched 
the  bottom  of  the  canoe,  but  at  that  point  something 
evidently  Avent  wrong.  Either  I  had  jumped  too  far 
or  not  far  enough,  but  in  less  time  than  it  requires  to 
put  these  words  on  paper  the  canoe  like  a  thing  of  life 
slipped  from  under  my  feet,  and  bounded  off  into  the 


2IO  Starboard  and  Port. 

middle  of  the  river,  while  I  found  myself  taking  a 
lesson  in  the  art  of  swimming  rather  than  in  that  of 
canoeing.  Harry  waded  in  and  recovered  his  birch, 
after  which  I  made  the  same  experiment  a  full  dozen 
times,  tumbling  into  the  river  with  an  ominous 
splash  at  nearly  every  attempt,  but  at  last  doing 
it  well  enough  to  insure  dry  clothes  on  another  oc- 
casion. 

I  remember  those  days  so  well  that  I  would  fain 
linger  over  them  for  a  while.  We  poled  up  to  Gordon 
Falls,  with  the  exception  of  a  short  portage,  the  next 
day,  and  were  rewarded  by  a  fine  catch  of  trout.  It 
was  a  region  difficult  of  access,  and  very  little  fished. 
The  river  was  about  a  hundred  feet  wide,  with  over- 
hanging woods  on  either  bank.  At  night  we  camped 
in  the  most  primitive  fashion.  Cutting  two  uprights, 
about  seven  feet  long,  with  a  cross-piece  to  fit  the 
crotches  on  the  upper  end,  we  had  the  framework  of 
the  house.  Branches  of  trees  thatched  our  cottage 
completely,  while  our  mattresses  were  made  of  fragrant 
hemlock  boughs.  He  who  has  never  slept  on  a  hem- 
lock bed  has  something  yet  to  live  for.  Then  we  cut  a 
huge  pile  of  wood,  whose  crackhng  and  cheerful  blaze 
would  keep  us  company  all  night,  and  were  happy. 
We  lived,  too,  like  princes.  Hard  bread  with  fried 
pork  will  make  a  meal  which  hungry  gods  might 
relish ;  and  a  pound  trout,  freshly  caught,  with  a  slice 
of  pork  laid  carefully  between  his  ribs,  rolled  up  in  the 
largest  leaves  that  can  be  found,  then  laid  to  rest  on  a 
hot  flat  stone  until  it  is  exactly  cooked,  makes  a  dish 
which  no  man  in  his  senses  and  with  a  normal  appetite 
would  refuse. 


Indian  Canoes.  211 

But  the  exciting  part  of  that  experience  was  in  run- 
ning the  rapids.  When  traveHng  in  quick  water,  and 
over  somewhat  uneven  surfaces,  it  is  very  difficult  to 
keep  the  canoe  perfectly  balanced,  for  the  slightest  pre- 
ponderance of  weight  on  the  one  side  or  the  other  is 
apt  to  result  in  a  wetting,  if  nothing  more. 

We  shoved  off  from  our  camping-ground  into  the 
smooth  water  of  an  eddy.  The  rapids  were  nearly  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  long,  with  here  and  there  sharp,  quick 
turns  to  the  right  and  left.  I  took  my  position  in  the 
stern,  sitting  in  the  bottom  of  the  canoe,  while  Harry 
stood  at  the  stem,  pole  in  hand. 

"  Now,  sir,  keep  steady,  and  we'll  take  the  cur- 
rent." 

"  Yes,  that  I  will ;  not  a  muscle  shall  be  moved,  and 
I'll  stop  winking  if  you  say  so." 

In  a  moment  the  birch  felt  the  quick  water,  and 
began  to  move  down  stream,  slowly  at  first,  but  pretty 
soon  as  rapidly  as  I  care  to  travel  in  that  kind  of  con- 
veyance. We  sped  along  with  increasing  velocity  as 
we  approached  the  rapids,  while  the  trees  on  the  banks 
seemed  to  be  moving  away  fr6m  us.  At  one  moment, 
Harry,  by  a  movement  which  seemed  as  quick  as  the 
thought  that  prompted  it,  drove  his  long  pole  into  the 
pebbly  bottom,  and  gave  the  light  canoe  a  shove  which 
sent  her  into  the  roaring,  boiling  waters,  and  at  another 
he  took  advantage  of  an  eddy,  and  laid  his  course  in 
smooth  water  for  the  next  few  rods.  Once  he  saw  a 
smooth  mossy  stone,  just  ahead,  and  only  about  three 
inches  under  the  surface ;  and  with  a  skill  and  energy 
which  I  envied  at  the  time,  and  have  continued  to  envy 
ever  since,  he  planted  the  end  of  his  pole  against  a 


212  Starboard  and  Port. 

boulder,  and  pushed  the  birch  bodily  away.  At  an- 
other time,  however,  he  was  nearly  caught.  We  were 
rushing  at  a  headlong  speed  between  two  masses  of 
rock  where  the  water  seemed  to  be  quite  deep,  when 
for  a  single  breath  the  bottom  of  the  canoe  stranded, 
or  threatened  to  strand,  on  a  piece  of  sunken,  slippery, 
water-logged  timber.  Thirty  seconds'  stay  in  such  a 
position  and  the  canoe  would  have  been  hogged,  as  the 
sailors  say  when  a  vessel's  bottom"  is  strained  out  of 
shape,  but  Harry,  who  was  heavier  than  I,  ran  his  pole 
into  the  sand,  and  actually  hung  to  it,  only  touching 
the  birch  with  his  feet  to  steady  it,  until  the  danger 
was  passed. 

''  Harry,  do  you  propose  to  go  over  the  fall  ?"  I  said, 
thinking  that  I  had  had  pretty  nearly  enough  of  such 
exciting  sport. 

"  Yes,  sir,  there's  no  help  for  it  now,"  he  replied. 
"  If  we  try  to  land  we  shall  be  carried  against  that 
rock,  and  then  you'll  have  to  swim  ashore." 

The  fall  was  just  ahead,  and  I  confess  that  at  the 
time  I  preferred  to  witness  the  scene  rather  than  be  a 
part  of  it.  It  was  no  very  formidable  fall,  being  only 
about  five  feet  high,  with  plenty  of  water,  still  I  was 
not  anxious  to  go  over  it. 

"  Now,  sir,  steady  as  you  can,  and  don't  move,  what- 
ever happens." 

With  that  he  laid  the  pole  on  the  thwarts,  and  took 
to  the  paddle.  He  got  steerage  way  on,  even  in  that 
quick  water,  by  a  few  vigorous  strokes,  and  the  mo- 
ment of  catastrophe  or  success  approached.  I  can  only 
remember  that  I  saw  him  projected  over  the  edge  of 
the  fall  a  few  feet,  while  I  and  my  end  of  the  canoe 


Indian  Canoes.  213 

seemed  to  be  sinking  down  into  the  caldron  of  seeth- 
ing waters,  and  the  next  moment  I  heard  a  splash, 
which  threw  the  spray  all  over  me,  as  w^e  struck  the 
surface  below. 

"  All  right,  sir,"  said  Harry. 

"  That  was  well  done,  old  fellow,"  I  responded ; 
"and  you  shall  havx  a  pound  of  tobacco  for  that 
feat." 

"  Thank  you,  sir.  I  was  only  afraid  you  would  move, 
and  then — " 

"  Well,  what  then,  Harry  ?" 

"  I  should  have  gone  overboard  after  you,  that  is 
all." 

And  I  believe  he  would  have  done  it. 

Now  for  Gaspe  once  more.  The  next  morning,  at 
the  time  appointed,  our  red  men  made  their  appear- 
ance. They  were  not  got  up  in  the  picturesque  style  of 
the  Indians  of  our  imagination,  nor  did  they  have  the 
euphonious  names  in  which  we  take  so  much  delight. 

"  I  certainly  hoped  one  might  be  called  at  least 
Eagle  Eye,"  said  Bertric,  as  he  put  his  traps  into  the 
birch.  "  How  delightful  it  would  be  to  go  to  the  fa- 
mous hunting-grounds  with  Leaping  Panther,  for  in- 
stance." 

"  Well,  what  are  their  names  ?"  asked  Algar. 

"  This  one  is  called  John  Bass,  and  that  old  fellow 
in  the  other  canoe  rejoices  in  the  simple  title  of  Dad," 
answered  Bertric. 

Neither  of  our  guides  had  eagle  pinions  in  his  hair, 
which  had  not  seen  a  comb  for  I  know  not  how  long. 
Their  heads  were  not  ornamented  with   particolored 


214  Starboard  and  Port. 

feathers,  but  covered  with  old  felt  hats ;  and  their  feet, 
so  far  from  having  on  them  brilliant  moccasins,  worked 
by  the  fair  hands  of  Indian  maidens,  were  encased  in 
number  eleven  boots,  made  by  machinery.  The  only 
scalps  they  wore  were  their  own,  and  they  grew  elo- 
quent only  once,  when  they  were  characterizing  a  cer- 
tain man  who  had  swindled  them  out  of  two  dollars 
and  a  half. 

"  Rods  all  in  ?" 

"Aye,  aye." 

"  Do  we  want  guns,  John  Bass  ?" 

*'  Mebbe  yes,  mebbe  no." 

*'  Then  let  us  take  the  chances  on  that '  mebbe  yes/  " 
was  suggested,  and  we  safely  stowed  away  a  rifle  and 
a  shot-gun. 

"Any  deer,  John  ?" 

"  Praps." 

"  Now  then,  boys,  tumble  in,  and  we'll  be  off." 

We  went  off  in  high  spirits,  two  of  us  in  each  canoe, 
sitting  on  a  matting  on  the  bottom,  and  back  to  back. 
It  was  a  lovely  day,  and  we  sang  our  way  by  the  nearest 
point,  when  the  scene  that  opened  before  us  was  be- 
yond description,  and  so  grand  and  ravishing  that  we 
forgot  to  laugh  or  joke.  For  miles  the  river,  in  some 
places  more  than  a  mile  wide,  stretched  its  lazy  length 
along  the  land,  while  high  hills  rose  on  either  side,  and 
far  beyond  the  mountains  with-  their  interminable  for- 
ests. The  sun  poured  his  wealth  of  glory  on  the  waters, 
until  the  rippling  waves  shone  like  burnished  steeL 
The  clouds  assumed  all  sorts  of  fantastic  shapes,  which 
one  could  never  tire  of  watching,  while  the  air  was  so 
full  of  oxygen  that  each  fresh  draught  of  its  delicious 


Indian  Canoes.  215 

coolness  made  us  feel  more  grateful  for  mere  exist- 
ence. 

We  fished  along  the  banks,  hoping  to  catch  a  white 
trout  or  two,  but  none  took  heed  of  our  flies.  At  last 
we  turned  a  bend  of  the  river,  about  six  miles  from  the 
starting-point,  and  ran  across  a  raft  of  timbers  which 
completely  blocked  our  passage.  At  first  we  thought 
our  day's  sport  would  end  in  disappointment  and  dis- 
gust, but  the  pluck  of  the  guides  was  equal  to  the 
emergency.  By  dint  of  thrusting  logs  aside  and  lift- 
ing the  canoes  over  them,  we  managed  to  work  our 
way  along  to  the  unobstructed  stream  beyond.  Then 
we  cast  our  flies  again,  but  still  to  no  purpose.  Neither 
the  fiery  red  nor  the  white  moth  seemed  to  have  any 
effect.  At  last  I  landed,  determined  to  find  my  way 
alone  through  the  woods  and  along  the  bank  for  a 
time,  while  the  rest  sat  in  the  canoes  thinking  hard 
thoughts.  There  is  something  grand  in  the  primeval 
forest,  and  the  communion  with  nature  is  so  complete 
at  such  times  that  one  is  well  repaid  for  every  effort 
made  to  reach  this  sublime  stillness.  I  sat  for  a  little 
behind  a  quantity  of  brushwood  meditating  on  the 
scene,  when  I  heard  a  rustle  of  wings  just  beyond. 
Peeping  through  the  parted  branches  I  saw  four  ducks 
gossiping  with  each  other  not  ten  rods  off.  They 
were  perfect  beauties — clumsy  enough  when  on  the 
land,  but  graceful  as  possible  on  the  water.  They  were 
not  aware  of  the  danger  that  impended,  and  went  on 
in  their  play,  just  as  though  double-barreled  breech- 
loaders had  not  been  invented.  They  would  swim 
apart  for  a  while  intent  on  the  food  which  attracted 
their  attention,  and    anon   came   close  together  and 


2i6  Starboard  and  Port. 

rubbed  their  bills  against  one  another,  uttering  little 
sharp  sounds,  which  were  not  as  musical  to  my  ears  as 
they  doubtless  were  to  their  own. 

It  seemed  too  bad  to  make  havoc  among  them, 
but  the  hunter's  instinct  was  too  strong  in  me  to  be 
checked  long  ;  so,  without  the  cracklin^j  of  a  single 
twig,  I  crept  within  sight  of  the  canoes,  when  I 
waved  my  handkerchief  at  Fletch,  who  immediately 
took  the  cue  and  landed  with  his  Scott. 

"  Hush,  boy,  or  they  will  hear  you.  Four  ducks 
are  sitting  on  the  stream  just  beyond  that  clump  of 
bushes.  Creep  up  as  gently  as  though  you  were  tread- 
ing on  velvet,  and  we'll  have  a  good  dinner." 

I  do  like  to  see  a  good  hunter  crawl  up  to  his  game. 
He  takes  no  step  without  first  looking  to  see  where  to 
plant  his  foot.  The  slightest  noise  and  his  chances  are 
lost.  Fletch  knew  his  business  by  heart,  and  in  a  mo- 
ment we  were  both  looking  at  the  beauties  through 
the  bushes. 

"  Wait  till  they  put  their  heads  together,  Fletch, 
which  they  are  sure  to  do  in  a  minute  or  two,  and  then 
let  them  have  one  barrel.  After  that,  if  one  escapes, 
take  him  on  the  w^ng." 

Oh,  that  breathless,  anxious  moment,  when  the  hunt- 
er is  taking  sight,  and  before  he  presses  his  finger  on 
the  fatal  trigger.  I  can  never  get  over  the  impres- 
sion that  it  is  the  one  important  moment  of  a  man's 
life.  Success  is  happiness,  and  defeat  is  untold  misery, 
when  the  smoke  clears  away,  and  you  look  over  the 
field. 

Fletch  is  a  careful  boy,  and  a  good  shot.  Just  at 
the  instant  when  the  ducks  were  gathered  into  a  heap, 


Indian  Canoes.  217 

possibly  to  listen  to  some  bit  of  fresh  gossip,  I  heard  a 
report.  Immediately  after,  another.  Rushing  to  the 
bank,  I  saw  two  ducks  lying  very  still  on  the  water, 
while  the  third  had  just  dropped  with  a  delightful 
splash  about  five  rods  off. 

"  Three  out  of  four  is  good  shooting,"  I  said  with 
a  shout.     "  They  are  noble  fellows,  and  shot  through 
.the    head.       Won't    we    have    a    feast    to-morrow, 
though." 

He  was  chagrined  that  he  had  lost  the  fourth  bird ; 
but  who  ever  saw  a  hunter  perfectly  satisfied  ? 

"  No  fish  here,  John  Bass,"  I  said  to  the  guide. 
"  We  haven't  had  a  single  bite  yet,  and  I  don't  believe 
you  ever  saw  a  trout  in  this  stream." 

"  Oh,  in  winter  plenty  trout,  big  fellows ;  big  as 
that,"  and  he  put  his  hand  on  his  paddle  to  indicate 
a  measurement  which  might  have  suited  a  shark,  but 
which  never  applied  to  a  trout. 

"  Praps  up  there,"  he  continued,  pointing  to  a  little 
side  stream  on  the  left. 

"  We'll  go  there,  then  ;  it's  better  to  have  a  '  praps ' 
than  a  certainty  the  other  way." 

We  had  no  sooner  struck  into  this  stream  than  the 
indications  took  a  favorable  turn.  I  chanced  to  cast 
my  fly  on  a  pool  when  a  good-sized  trout  rose  to  it, 
and  hooked  himself.  From  that  moment  our  listless- 
ness  was  gone.  Bertric  saw  ahead  of  us  what  he 
thought  to  be  a  succession  of  deep  pools,  and  as  we 
could  not  get  to  them  without  wading,  we  plunged 
into  the  water  up  to  our  waists. 

"  Just  look  there,  fellows.  Did  you  ever  see  any 
thing  like  it  ?  why,  it's  a  perfect  aquarium." 

K 


2i8  Starboard  and  Port. 

It  was  a  sight  to  stir  the  blood  in  the  heart  of  the 
most  placid  fisherman.  There  were  three  successive 
pools,  apparently  about  nine  or  ten  feet  deep,  over- 
hung completely  by  branches  which  rendered  it  dif- 
ficult to  cast  a  fly,  and  in  each  one  there  were  from 
six  to  a  dozen  trout,  some  weighing  about  three 
quarters  of  a  pound,  and  a  few  running  close  up  to 
two  pounds. 

First  Stigand  dropped  a  red  hackle  just  over  their 
noses  as  lightly  as  a  feather,  when  two  fish  rose  to  it, 
and  in  the  mclk  neither  was  hooked.  Then  Bertric 
threw  his  fly  up  stream,  and  let  it  float  down  within 
reach.  Immediately  a  trout  worth  having  was  fast. 
He  was  too  big  to  haul  directly  in,  but  after  being 
played  for  two  or  three  minutes  he  quietly  succumbed 
to  fate,  and  was  captured. 

We  stayed  by  those  pools  for  an  hour  and  a  half. 
When  the  fish  became  wary  we  changed  our  flies,  and 
still  continued  the  deceit.  Twice  we  rested  the  pools 
for  ten  minutes,  and  ended  the  day's  sport  by  bringing 
to  creel  as  handsome  a  mess  of  trout  as  I  have  ever 
seen  caught. 

By  five  o'clock,  however,  we  gave  up,  and  turned  our 
faces  homeward.  The  air  was  getting  chilly,  and  we 
were  thoroughly  soaked. 

No  one  who  has  not  experienced  it  can  imagine  the 
beauty  of  afternoon  colors  among  the  mountains  and 
on  the  waters.  A  kind  of  sombre  gray  pervades  every 
thing,  and  one  naturally  settles  himself  down  to  rev- 
erie. We  were  all  the  more  inclined  to  do  this,  since  we 
were  both  tired  and  hungry.  As  I  sat  in  the  canoe, 
Fletch  asked  the  guide  some  questions  about  deer, 


Indian  Canoes.  219 

and  for  an  hour,  or  until  we  had  nearly  reached  the 
yacht,  I  went  off  into  dreamland,  reviving  the  scenes 
of  years  agone,  when  I  killed  my  first  deer  in  the 
White  Mountains.  That  morning  two  dogs  had  been 
taken  into  the  woods  before  daybreak,  and  by  seven 
we  heard  their  distant  bay.  They  were  on  a  deer's 
track  evidently,  and  chasing  him  to  the  water.  My 
friend  and  I  had  taken  our  positions  on  the  grassy 
bank  of  the  Ammonoosuc,  just  opposite  the  roadway 
of  the  game.  I  had  dropped  into  a  half-doze  when  I 
heard  the  bushes  part  on  the  other  bank,  and  saw  a 
fine  fat  buck  rush  into  the  water  to  cool  himself.  He 
had  fallen  on  his  knees  apparently,  for  nothing  but  his 
head  was  visible.  I  sat  watching  him,  when  my  friend 
said,  somewhat  rudely,  "  Why  in  the  world  don't  you 
shoot,  man  ?" 

The  truth  was,  I  had  forgotten  all  about  shooting, 
and  was  engaged  in  admiring  his  graceful  outlines  and 
motions. 

It  was  the  first  deer  I  had  ever  seen  in  the  woods, 
and  I  was  no  exception  to  the  general  rule  that  every 
body  misses  his  first  shot  at  such  large  game.  I  ran 
my  eye  along  the  barrel  of  the  gun  and  fired.  The 
bullet  did  not  probably  go  within  a  rod  of  him.  At 
any  rate,  he  stood  up  amazed  for  a  moment,  and  then 
started  for  cover  with  a  series  of  bounds  which  were 
so  rhythmic  that  I  have  thought  since  it  was  a  cruelty 
to  shoot  him.  But  I  was  on  my  mettle,  having  so  dis- 
graced myself  the  minute  before,  and  this  time  took 
careful  aim,  and  blew  the  top  of  his  head  off.  He 
dropped  into  the  rapid  current,  when  I  rushed  in  and 
dragged  him  ashore. 


2  20  Starboard  and  Port. 

*'  Halloo  !     There's  the  Nettie^  and  in  ten  minutes 
we  were  aboard. 

"  Ah  Boo,  is  supper  ready  ?" 
"  All  ready,  sir." 
**  So  are  we." 


I 


Enough,  and  Home. 


221 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

ENOUGH,   AND    HOME. 

"  Such  is  the  patriot's  boast,  where'er  we  roam, 
His  first,  best  country  ever  is  at  home." 

Goldsmith. 

UR  stay  in  Gaspe  was  very  delight- 
ful, but  we  had  been  so  long  from 
home  that  we  were  not  sorry  to 
turn  the  bows  of  the  Nettie  in  that 
direction.  I  hoped,  as  I  have  al- 
ready said,  to  be  able  to  land  on 
the  romantic  and,  in  many  respects,  remarkable  island 
of  Anticosti,  but  time,  the  inexorable,  would  not  al- 
low. I  have  dreams  of  some  day  cruising  along  the 
whole  coast  of  Labrador,  east  of  the  Mingan  Islands, 
and  making  a  bold  push  through  the  Strait  of  Belle 
Isle,  that  I  may  luxuriate  for  a  Avhile  in  the  vicin- 
ity of  icebergs  —  those  huge  monsters  of  the  deep 
which  are  at  once  our  terror  and  delight.  One  can 
not  go  every  where,  however,  in  two  months,  so  it 
was  with  a  serene  feeling  of  satisfaction  that  we  saw 
the  anchor  tripped  to  the  sailors'  song,  and  jerked  to 
the  cat-head  with  the  last  word  of  the  last  line. 

"  Up  with  the  jib  !"  cried  the  captain,  with  a  certain 
gleeful  ring  in  his  tones.    Then,  turning  to  us, "  Home- 


2  2  2  Starboard  and  Port. 

ward  bound,  gentlemen  ;  our  keel  will  soon  be  in  Chris- 
tian waters,  and  I  shall  be  happy." 

It  was  with  a  sad  kind  of  feeling  that  we  said  our 
silent  good-bye  to  the  wondrous  scenery  that  opened 
as  we  passed  the  mouth  of  Dartmouth  River,  for  there 
is  about  such  landscapes  a  grandeur  all  their  own. 

In  the  course  of  half  an  hour,  for  the  wind  was  light, 
we  rounded  the  ugly  little  boat  that  does  duty  as  a 
light-ship,  and  in  the  course  of  the  next  hour  had 
passed  Douglastown,  sending  our  farewell  wishes 
ashore,  and  were  making  our  way  across  Mai  Bay. 

"  Rain,  sure  as  you  live,"  said  Edwards,  coming  aft  and 
pointing  to  a  black  mass  of  clouds  in  the  southwest. 

It  was  not  a  rain,  but  a  pour.  It  seemed  as  though 
the  bottom  of  the  upper  sea  had  suddenly  dropped 
out,  and  let  every  thing  through  at  once — a  perfect 
wall  of  water  was  moving  toward  us.  As  the  heavy 
drops  fell  in  the  smooth  sea,  they  made  a  queer,  dull, 
rushing  sound,  and  in  a  few  minutes  every  thing  was 
drenched.  Perc^  Rock  and  Bonaventura  were  only  a 
couple  of  miles  off,  but  they  were  entirely  shut  out 
from  view. 

That  night,  however,  was  a  perfect  marvel.  The 
clouds  had  all  disappeared  with  the  setting  sun,  and 
the  troops  of  stars  came  out  one  after  another,  until  it 
seemed  as  though,  even  in  infinite  space,  there  was  not 
room  enough  for  all,  and  yet  they  continued  to  come 
out  in  innumerable  hosts,  making  the  heavens  glitter 
with  a  million  million  points  of  light. 

The  wind  was  gentle,  and  just  fanned  us  along,  but 
at  about  eleven  it  freshened,  and  at  one  it  rose  to  a 
gale.     The  top-hamper  was  all  snugly  stowed,  but  it 


Enough,  and  Home.  223 

became  necessary  to  call  all  hands  to  reef  the  mainsail 
and  take  the  bonnet  off  the  jib. 

We  rushed  by  the  Bay  of  Chaleur,  and  by  daylight 
made  Miscou.  The  wind  grew  stronger  as  the  sun 
rose,  and  though  we  had  planned  to  keep  to  the  east- 
ward of  North  Point,  and  sail  through  the  pleasant 
waters  of  Northumberland  Strait,  stopping  at  Pictou 
for  a  day  or  two,  we  were  driven  so  far  out  to  sea  that 
we  were  compelled  to  go  back  the  same  way  we  came, 
along  the  northern  shore  of  Prince  Edward's.  We 
passed  a  large  number  of  fishing  schooners  lying 
to  under  trysails,  but  managed  to  hold  our  course 
until  we  got  under  the  lee. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  describe  the  home  trip  in  de- 
tail. We  sailed  through  the  beautiful  and  quiet  wa- 
ters of  the  Gut  of  Canso,  stopping  at  Port  Mulgrave  to 
get  a  huge  package  of  letters,  which  were  more  cheer- 
ing than  can  be  imagined.  Across  Chedebucto  Bay, 
and  into  the  Little  Gut  of  Canso  next,  where  we 
anchored,  as  it  was  almost  a  dead  calm.  There  we 
got  ice,  fish,  and  lobsters,  and  had  made  preparations 
to  remain  all  night,  when  the  water  rippled  to  the 
eastward,  foretelling  a  stiff  breeze  from  that  direction. 

"  I  fear  we  are  going  to  have  a  rough  night,"  said 
the  captain.  "  This  wind  comes  up  in  an  ugly  sort  of 
way,  and  my  impression  is  we  shall  get  a  heavy  blow 
before  morning." 

"  Well,  Cap,  we  can  stand  a  blow  as  well  as  any  one ; 
so  get  your  anchor  up  and  we'll  be  off." 

"  It  won't  be  pleasant  to  run  into  an  old-fashioned 
gale,"  he  replied,  "  and  it  looks  now  as  if  we  were  go- 
ing" to  have  one." 


224  Starboard  and  Port, 

I  do  not  pretend  to  be  weatherwise,  but  quite  other- 
wise. I  was  anxious  to  get  home,  however,  since  we 
had  started,  and  felt  that  if  it  were  a  three  days'  storm 
that  was  coming  up,  we  could  take  the  first  end  of  it, 
and  possibly  get  to  Halifax  before  the  gale  had  fairly 
got  under  way. 

"  No  matter.  Cap,  let's  get  away  and  take  our 
chances." 

So  off  we  went.  When  we  were  almost  opposite 
Roaring  Bull,  the  wind  began  to  gather  itself  up  for  a 
hard  rough-and-tumble  blow.  The  breeze  came  in  a 
hesitating  sort  of  way,  as  though  it  were  pushed  along 
by  an  immense  quantity  behind,  that  had  not  yet 
shown  itself  or  its  power.  The  swell  of  the  ocean  be- 
gan to  break  into  white-caps,  which  after  a  while  made 
one  sheet  of  foam  far  as  the  eye  could  reach.  I  re- 
pented having  given  the  order  to  get  under  way,  and 
heartily  wished  myself  safely  at  anchor  again  ;  but 
regrets  are  always  vain,  and  when  one  starts  it  is  a 
bad  sign  to  go  back.  A  return  was  suggested,  but  it 
looked  too  much  like  a  defeat,  so  I  laughed  at  the 
croakings  I  heard,  though  I  was  as  much  afraid  as  any 
one,  and  promised  in  a  boastful  sort  of  way  to  take  an 
early  breakfast  in  Halifax  the  next  morning. 

At  supper  the  yacht  pitched  so  it  was  impossi- 
ble to  sit  at  table.  Ah  Boo  braced  himself  as  he 
poured  the  tea,  and  the  gentlemen  were  compelled 
to  hold  their  cups  in  their  hands.  Even  then  a  sud- 
den lurch  would  empty  the  cup  completely,  and  tum- 
ble the  victim  of  untoward  circumstances  on  the 
nearest  transom,  or  throw  him  against  the  partition 
of  the  state-room. 


Enough,  and  Home.  225 

*'  Old  Neptune  is  on  his  high  horse  to-night,"  said 
Bertric. 

"  Yes,  we'll  have  all  we  want  before  morning,"  re- 
sponded Ruloff. 

"  Humph,  I've  got  more  than  I  want  now,"  said 
Stigand,  as  he  dropped  a  cup  of  hot  tea  in  his 
lap. 

By  ten  o'clock  it  was  as  dark  as  pitch.  It  was 
cloudy  and  threatening  rain,  and  the  wind  was  blow- 
ing a  perfect  gale.  It  was  fair  though,  coming  in  over 
the  larboard  quarter,  so  that  we  could  rush  along  with 
start-sheets — and  rush  along  we  did.  If  ever  a  vessel 
felt  herself  in  a  hurry,  the  Nettie  did  that  night.  She 
brushed  the  water  from  her  bows,  and  leaped  like  a 
thing  of  life  from  wave  to  wave. 

"  There  was  music  in  her  sail, 
As  it  swelled  before  the  gale, 
And  a  dashing  at  her  prow 
As  it  cleft  the  waves  below ; 
And  the  good  ship  sped  along, 
Scudding  free." 

"  How  fast.  Cap  ?" 

"  Well,  a  good  twelve-knot." 

"  Good  ;  then  my  prediction  will  prove  true,  and  I 
will  eat  my  breakfast  bacon  in  the  Halifax  Hotel  at 
nine  in  the  morning." 

I  got  my  wolf-robe,  and  had  just  made  myself  com- 
fortable, when  I  heard — • 

"  All  hands  on  deck  to  reef  the  mainsail."  You 
can  easily  see  that  it  must  be  blowing  hard,  when  with 
the  wind  on  our  quarter  it  became  necessary  to  shorten 
sail ;  but  such  was  the  case.     Ten  of  us  worked  away 

K2 


2  26  Starboa7'd  and  Port. 

for  as  much  as  thirty  minutes  before  the  last  reefing- 
point  was  tied,  and  then  the  yacht  trotted  along  at  a 
slashing  pace,  but  with  a  much  steadier  gait. 

We  all  went  below  and  slept  soundly  until  daybreak. 
At  seven  Edwards  said  to  me — 

"  That's  Chebucto  Light,  ten  miles  ahead  of  us." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  I  replied.  "  If  that  is  Che- 
bucto Light,  then  we  are  not  more  than  fifteen  miles 
from  Halifax." 

"  Just  about  fifteen,"  he  replied,  quietly.  "  Supper  in 
Canso  and  breakfast  in  Halifax  ;  well,  that  will  cer- 
tainly do  to  put  down  in  our  log-book." 

*'  Did  you  ever  accomplish  such  a  feat  before,  Ed- 
wards ?" 

"  No,  and  I  don't  want  to  again.  I've  been  up  all 
night,  and  the  whole  fore-deck  has  been  one  sheet  of 
foam." 

At  nine  o'clock  we  entered  Halifax  Harbor,  and 
came  to  anchor.  Just  then  the  wind  was  blowing  with 
such  ferocity  that  it  fairly  lifted  boards  from  a  pile  on 
a  wharf  near  us,  and  flung  them  around  in  the  most 
reckless  manner.  We  had  had  enough  of  it,  and 
were  glad  to  get  to  a  place  of  safety,  for  had  we  been 
out  longer  we  should  certainly  have  been  blown  to 
pieces.  At  noon  it  seemed  as  though  all  the  furies 
were  let  loose  at  once.  The  city  was  filled  with  clouds 
of  dust,  and  every  once  in  a  while  we  heard  the  crash 
of  a  shutter  that  had  been  broken  off  its  hinges,  and 
was  being  carried  on  a  free  expedition,  while  the  slam- 
ming of  doors  was  heard  above  the  garrison  band,  and 
there  were  so  many  hats  in  the  air  that  one  could  easily 
suppose  it  to  be  a  gala  occasion,  on  which  every  En- 


Eno2igh,  and  Home.  227 

glishman  was  making  this  demonstration  in  honor  of 
his  queen. 

We  remained  in  Halifax  several  days  to  have  the 
yacht  painted,  and  snugged  up  for  the  reception  of 
friends  at  home.  When  we  did  start  we  were  made 
thoroughly  and  unpleasantly  acquainted  with  the  tra- 
ditional fogs,  which  love  this  shore  so  dearly  that  they 
seldom  leave  it.  We  had  hardly  left  Sambro  Light 
before  we  lost  all  view  of  the  land.  For  two  mortal 
days  and  nights  we  tumbled  about  in  the  ground- 
swell,  without  wind  enough  to  keep  us  steady,  and  be- 
came so  demoralized  that  we  were  nearly  ready  to 
sink  into  untimely  graves  for  the  sake  of  change. 
Once  the  fog  lifted,  and  kindly  permitted  us  to  run  for 
the  night  into  Port  Mouton,  where  we  enjoyed  a  quiet 
anchorage,  and  a  very  unsuccessful  search  for  any  thing 
in  the  shape  of  bird  or  beast.  At  another  time  we  ran 
close  upon  the  rocks  just  off  Shelburne  Harbor,  and  es- 
caped them  only  by  putting  the  wheel  hard  down  at 
the  cry  from  the  lookout — 

"  Breakers  ahead !" 

Shelburne  Harbor,  where  we  anchored  that  night, 
is  one  of  the  loveliest  spots  conceivable.  The  river 
is  perhaps  a  mile  wide,  and  very  picturesque.  For  a 
summer  residence  it  would  be  unequaled.  The  scenery 
is  varied,  in  some  places  undulating  and  wooded,  and 
in  others  rocky,  abrupt,  and  rugged,  with  huge  cliffs 
bending  like  giants  over  the  sea,  while  the  broad  deep 
lies  beyond  in  full  view.  I  felt  when  I  saw  the  hun- 
dreds of  cords  of  drift-wood  floating  lazily  down  the 
waters  of  the  Penobscot  some  years  ago,  what  a  pity  it 
is  that  the  poor  people  of  New  York  live  so  far  off. 


2  28  Starboard  and  Port, 

They  could  have  their  winter's  supply  of  wood  for  the 
asking.  But,  by  some  strange  law,  the  people  and  the 
wood  are  so  widely  separated  that  they  are  of  no  use 
to  each  other.  So  I  felt  concerning  the  Nova  Scotia 
real  estate.  There  were  head-lands,  bluffs,  huge  rocks, 
not  to  be  imitated  by  art.  Woods,  ocean,  every  thing 
in  short  to  make  property  valuable,  but  nobody  to  buy, 
and  nobody  to  enjoy  it.  These  exquisite  sites  are  so 
far  removed  from  the  people  that  they  must  needs 
be  satisfied  with  the  fever  and  ague  of  Staten  Island. 
When  we  get  the  mean's  of  bodily  transportation  which 
corresponds  with  the  transportation  of  messages  by 
electricity.  Nova  Scotia  will  receive  her  just  tribute  of 
praise  as  one  of  the  loveliest  shores  on  the  continent. 

After  leaving  Shelburne,  with  its  first-class  light- 
house, perhaps  the  best  on  the  coast,  we  ran  for  Sable 
Light,  with  Algar  at  the  wheel.  Every  thing  was 
moist  and  disagreeable.  Our  clothing  felt  as  though 
it  had  been  recently  washed  and  imperfectly  wrung 
out ;  and  we  were  ready  for  any  thing  in  the  way  of  a 
sensation.  A  light  breeze  gave  us  start-sheets,  and  the 
main-boom  hung  well  outboard.  All  at  once  I  heard 
a  "  By  Jove"  from  Algar,  as  he  put  the  helm  up  with 
all  his  might. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?"  I  cried,  jumping  up  and  drop- 
ping the  damp  book  I  had  been  trying  to  read. 

"  Just  look  there,"  he  answered,  pointing  to  the  port 
bow.     "  Breakers,  as  sure  as  you  live." 

I  looked,  and  within  twenty  feet  of  the  yacht  was  a 
huge  black  whale  asleep.  We  passed  so  close  to  him 
that  the  end  of  the  main-boom  was  over  his  back. 

If  we  had  run  into  him  the  public  would  have  been 


Enough^  and  Home.  229 

spared  the  infliction  of  reading  this  account,  and  a  full 
dozen  life-insurance  policies  would  have  suddenly  come 
due. 

Ruloff  rushed  on  deck  gun  in  hand,  and  let  the  fellow 
have  a  charge  of  No.  i  shot  right  in  the  hump.  It  did 
not  probably  hurt  him  seriously,  but  it  evidently  woke 
him  up,  for  he  slashed  his  flukes  around  in  the  most 
preposterous  manner,  making  the  white  foam  fly  in 
the  air  like  a  snow-storm. 

The  next  day  we  crossed  the  Bay  of  Fundy.  We 
knew  we  must  be  in  that  locality,  for  in  no  other  place 
do  the  waters  make  such  a  bobbery.  The  steady  swell 
gave  place  to  a  most  unpleasant  chop  sea,  and  the 
Nettie  was  so  surprised  at  the  new  condition  of  affairs 
that  she  jumped  about  in  a  very  disagreeably  suggest- 
ive manner  for  twelve  long  hours,  during  which  time 
we  hardly  knew  whether  to  be  sick  or  not,  but  main- 
tained a  dogged  silence  about  our  interior  condition 
which  left  our  meals  uncared  for  and  untouched. 

The  next  day  the  sun  came  out — blessed  sight ! — and 
at  noon  we  took  our  bearings.  Edwards  walked  the 
deck  to  cogitate  upon  the  various  courses  we  had 
sailed,  and  the  number  of  miles  we  had  probably  made, 
then  descended  to  the  cabin  to  put  his  prophetic  fin- 
ger on  the  spot  on  the  chart  where  we  actually  were, 
or  where  we  ought  to  be.  This  guess-work  seemed  a 
little  marvelous  to  us  landsmen,  and  we  accepted  his 
assertions  with  a  large  pinch  of  salt.  John,  however, 
had  got  his  quadrant  from  his  box,  taken  his  observa- 
tions, pulled  his  Bow^ditch  from  its  hiding-place,  and  in 
half  an  hour,  compasses  in  hand,  pricked  the  exact 
point  on  the  chart  which  at  that  moment  the  Nettie 
occupied. 


230  Starboard  and  Port.  , 

"Where  are  we?"  asked  Edwards,  who  was  willing 
to  set  his  guess  against  all  the  nautical  instruments 
in  the  world. 

"Right  there,"  answered  John,  pointing  to  a  place 
twenty  miles  south-southeast  from  Manhegin. 

"  Right  there,  hey  ;  well,  let  me  see — I  said  we 
were  there" — pointing  to  another  place  not  seven 
miles  by  chart  measurement  from  John's  calculation. 

The  instinct  of  the  true  sailor  is  a  very  wonderful 
thing.  It  is  a  mystery  to  me  how  he  can  keep  his 
reckoning  so  accurately.  During  the  days  and  nights 
when  we  had  been  sailing  in  a  fog,  without  a  glimpse 
of  land,  Edwards  had  kept  every  tack  in  mind,  the 
speed  we  had  made,  and  the  probable  effect  of  the 
currents,  and  had  guessed  within  seven  miles  of  our 
exact  position. 

"  We  shall  see  land  in  an  hour,"  he  said,  triumph- 
antly, as  he  came  up  on  deck.  Not  one  of  us  believed 
a  word  of  it.  But  before  the  hour  was  up  the  lookout 
cried  from  the  maintop — 

"  Land  ho !" 

"  Where  away  ?" 

"  Two  points  off  the  starboard  bow." 

Then  we  could  see  in  the  dim  distance  a  sort  of  haze 
on  the  horizon,  which  in  fifteen  minutes  assumed  the 
indistinct  outlines  of  an  island. 

"  What  land  is  it  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Manhegin,"  replied  Edwards. 

And,  sure  enough,  Manhegin  it  was. 

All  night  we  drifted  toward  Portland  Lights,  and  in 
the  morning  passed  Boone  Island,  headed  for  the 
Shoals.     We  had  written  from  Gaspe  that  we  would 


Enough,  and  Home.  231 

meet  our  friends  at  the  Shoals  on  the  fifteenth,  Satur- 
day ;  and  by  nine  o'clock  on  the  sixteenth,  Sunday, 
we  dropped  anchor  by  the  side  of  the  Idler  in  front 
of  the  Appledore. 

Three  ladies  are  a  serious  matter  on  board  a  yacht ; 
but  three  ladies  and  a  small  boy  only  five  years  of  age, 
who  is  constantly  leaning  over  the  rail,  or  trying  to 
climb  the  shrouds,  and  who  requires  at  least  four  pairs 
of  watchful  eyes  to  see  that  he  does  not  become  food 
for  the  fishes,  is  certainly  a  very  serious  matter.  I 
wonder  more  and  more  every  year,  however,  that  the 
ladies  do  not  take  possession  of  the  fleet.  It  would 
be  beneficial  in  every  way.  In  the  first  place,  it  would 
make  the  cabin  of  the  yacht  more  like  home  ;  and,  in 
the  second  place,  it  would  cultivate  a  love  of  healthful 
pleasure  which  is  not  hostile  to  the  most  delicate  re- 
finement. American  women  are  notably  wanting  in 
physical  culture.  It  is  seldom  we  see  robust  and 
ruddy  health  in  the  other  sex.  The  woman  of 
American  society  knows  more,  is  far  more  interesting, 
and  is  acknowledged  to  be  handsomer — that  is  to  my 
mind  the  most  dignified  word  with  which  to  express 
good  looks — than  her  sisters  in  any  part  of  the  world, 
but  it  is  rare  to  find  one  in  perfect  health.  Sick-head- 
aches and  neuralgia,  caused  by  over -cerebration,  are 
among  the  most  common  complaints,  and  one  hears 
of  these  troubles  so  frequently  that  he  begins  at  last 
to  feel  that  the  diseases  mentioned  are  among  the 
original  and  normal  elements  of  which  the  average 
woman  is  constituted. 

The  causes  of  this  degeneration  are  visible  to  the 
most    casual    observation  ;    too    early    entrance    into 


232  Starboard  and  Port. 

society,  overcrowding  of  the  brain  at  school,  a  prem- 
ature development  of  matrimonial  ambitions,  and  no 
exercise  at  all. 

If  the  wives  of  all  yachtsmen  would  take  possession 
of  their  husbands'  craft,  peaceably  if  possible,  forcibly 
if  necessary,  and  insist  on  sailing  the  main  with  their 
liege  lords,  a  taste  of  out-door  life  might  be  diffused 
over  the  general  public  which  would  paint  the  pale 
cheeks  of  our  girls  with  a  ruddy  richness  which  no 
rouge  supplies,  and  create  a  public  opinion  in  favor  of 
health  which  would  exorcise  these  ghosts  and  goblins 
of  neuralgia  and  headache  which  haunt  so  many  of  our 
homes. 

But  I  am  too  near  the  end  of  my  voyage  to  begin 
to  preach.  I  have  kept  out  of  the  Sleepy  Hollow  of 
sermonizing  so  long  that  I  will  not  yield  to  the  instinct 
at  this  stage. 

Nothing  that  need  be  mentioned  happened  on  the 
home  trip  from  the  Shoals  until  the  morning  when  we 
left  that  quaintest  of  all  quaint  places,  Provincetown. 
We  had  landed  there  early  in  the  afternoon,  and  had 
spent  three  or  four  hours  in  exploring  the  mysteries 
of  its  single  street,  in  looking  over  the  curiosities  in  its 
museum,  in  regarding  the  wonderful  view  to  be  had 
from  the  top  of  its  only  tower,  and  in  recalling  the 
various  incidents  connected  with  the  landing  of  the 
Pilgrims  on  what  Mrs.  Hemans  is  pleased  to  call  "  a 
stern  and  rock-bound  coast."  Stern  certainly  it  is,  as 
we  found  to  our  sorrow  the  next  day,  but  so  far  is  it 
from  being  rock-bound  that  it  is  only  defended  by 
sand-bars,  and  a  rock  would  be  a  natural  curiosity. 

Be  it  known  that  I  had  been  especially  careful  to 


Enough^  and  Home.  233 

select  good  weather  for  this  trip,  because  I  wanted  the 
ladies  to  become  acquainted  with  the  sea  in  her  most 
coy  and  joyous  moods.  I  had  in  my  mind's  eye  cer- 
tain excursions  to  be  developed  in  the  future,  which 
would  seem  very  plausible  to  the  feminine  mind  if 
their  present  voyage  should  present  only  smooth 
water  and  fanning  breezes. 

My  heart  sank  within  me,  however,  the  next  morn- 
ing, when  I  found  that  the  captain  had  weighed  anch- 
or, and  that  we  were  already  beyond  Race  Point,  and 
heading  for  the  Highlands.  The  wind  was  blowing  a 
stiff  breeze,  the  Atlantic  swell  was  rolling  in,  and  once 
in  a  while  curling  up  into  white-caps,  which  made  me 
fear  that  the  only  song  to  be  sung  that  day  would  be 
"  Home,  sweet  Home." 

I  began  to  remonstrate  very  vigorously  with  the 
captain  for  bringing  us  out  in  such  weather,  but  he 
assured  me  that  in  a  couple  of  hours  at  most  we 
should  be  running  along  with  a  free  wind,  and  that  we 
should  then  feel  very  little  motion.  I  rushed  below, 
and  persuaded  my  wife,  who  was  just  beginning  to  feel 
that  peculiar  dizziness  which  is  premonitory  of  more 
vigorous  and  active  symptoms,  to  hurry  with  her 
dressing  at  any  cost,  and  get  on  deck  at  the  earliest 
possible  moment.  Any  delay  would  be  fatal.  She 
was  in  that  suggestive  condition  when  she  seemed  to 
think  that  it  was  hardly  worth  while  to  make  any  ef- 
fort ;  but  I  pleaded  and  begged  and  besought,  until  the 
boots  were  buttoned  and  the  hat  was  on.  Then  with 
uncertain  gait  she  made  her  way  on  deck,  where  I  had 
prepared,  of  wolf-skin  and  blankets,  a  cozy  little  nest 
out  of  the  reach  of  the  spray. 


2  34  Starboard  and  Port. 

I  mildly  suggested  breakfast  in  the  most  far  off  and 
remote  way  of  which  my  vocabulary  was  capable,  but 
the  prompt  and  decided  manner  in  which  such  a  pos- 
sibility as  eating  was  received  sealed  my  lips. 

I  did  my  best  after  that  to  get  the  other  ladies  on 
deck,  but  my  efforts  were  vain.  One  lay  still  and  si- 
lent, with  closed  eyes  and  a  patient  expression  of  suf- 
fering which  indicated  only  too  plainly  that  Father 
Neptune  was  putting  on  the  thumbscrews.  She  was 
like  those  whom  Donne  describes  so  vividly,  who, 

"Coffined  in  their  cabins,  lie  equally 
Grieved  that  they  are  not  dead." 

The  other,  surprised  and  chagrined  beyond  expression 
at  the  possibility  of  sickness,  with  a  determination 
which  would  supply  a  martyr  with  material  to  endure 
the  blazing  fagot,  dressed  in  an  intermittent  sort 
of  way,  but  in  a  way  so  very  intermittent  that  she 
was  not  seen  on  deck  until  four  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon. 

Cape  Cod  is  seldom  an  easy  point  to  pass,  but  at  this 
particular  time  the  Old  Atlantic  seemed  to  be  doing 
his  best  to  make  things  uncomfortable.  The  wind 
blew  furiously,  and  the  sea  had  on  a  regular  English 
Channel  chop. 

It  made  me  a  little  indignant,  however,  that  Will- 
iam, who  had  left  his  business  to  enjoy  the  home  run 
with  us,  maintained  such  equanimity  in  the  surge.  It 
seemed  no  more  than  right  that  a  landsman  should 
be  downright  sick  ;  but,  though  once  or  twice  his  lips 
grew  just  a  bit  purple,  he  wheeled  into  line  with  the 
old  sailors  and  laughed  at  the  storm.     To  test  him,  I 


Eftougky  and  Home,  235 

invited  him  below  to  lunch.  For  a  single  moment  he 
hesitated,  as  though  uncertain  whether  it  were  better 
to 

"  Bear  those  ills  we  have 
Than  fly  to  others  that  we  know  not  of," 

and  then  descended  to  the  depths,  where  he  com- 
pletely vindicated  himself  by  eating  a  cold  mutton- 
chop. 

When  we  were  in  the  trough  of  the  sea,  I,  sitting  in 
the  cockpit,  could  not  see  the  top  of  the  Highlands, 
only  a  couple  of  miles  to  leeward.  The  water  came 
on  deck  in  such  profuse  quantities  that  every  thing 
floated  a  part  of  the  time,  and  the  sailors  were  chiefly 
occupied  in  paddling  after  stray  bits  of  property  which 
were  trying  to  get  overboard. 

I  noticed  several  times  that  the  water  struck  the  lee 
boat — our  best  boat  of  course — with  such  force  that  she 
was  lifted  up  a  few  inches,  and  then  came  down  with 
a  shock  which  bent  the  davits  in  a  very  disagreeable 
way.  While  the  captain  and  I  were  standing  to- 
gether and  talking  of  the  prospects,  he  suddenly  cried 
out — 

"  Just  look  there  !  that  lee  boat  is  going !" 

And,  sure  enough,  her  hour  had  come. 

The  forward  line  gave  way,  and  she  went  down  bows 
first.  Why  is  it  that  every  thing  goes  wrong  end  first 
in  this  life  ?  If  that  boat  had  dropped  stern  first  we 
could  have  saved  her.  But  she  must  needs  go  down 
bows  first,  in  consequence  of  which,  as  we  were  going 
nine  knots,  she  instantly  filled  with  water,  and  then 
gave  a  wrench  and  twist  to  the  other  davit  which 
made  me  feel  for  a  moment  that  the  whole  rail  would 


236  Starboard  and  Port. 

be  torn  off.  We  did  our  best  to  save  her,  but  our 
efforts  were  as  nothing  in  that  heavy  sea.  At  last  I 
gave  orders  to  cut  her  away,  and  the  next  minute  she 
was  floating  astern.  We  had  the  gloomy  satisfaction 
of  knowing  that  every  thing  belonging  to  her — oars, 
thole-pins,  backboard,  sponges,  etc. — were  in  her,  and 
that  whoever  picked  her  up  would  get  every  thing 
that  was  needed  for  immediate  use. 

This  little  incident  created  quite  a  stir  on  board. 
My  wife  lost  at  once  all  signs  of  seasickness,  and 
watched  the  proceedings  with  as  steady  a  nerve  as 
though  she  were  standing  on  the  land.  The  suffer- 
ers below  heard  the  noise  and  the  cries,  and  remarked 
that  it  made  very  little  difference  to  them  what  was 
happening  on  deck ;  that  they  should  neither  be  very 
much  frightened  nor  yet  very  sorry  if  the  Nettie  her- 
self should  take  it  into  her  capricious  head  to  go  be- 
low.    Then  I  knew  that  the  matter  was  serious. 

However,  after  a  few  hours  of  bad  weather  we  ran 
into  the  Sound,  and  by  four  o'clock  were  snugly  and 
safely  anchored  in  the  harbor  of  Edgarton,  and  this 
time  in  the  pleasant  company  of  the  PJiantom. 

Nothing  that  need  be  mentioned  happened  after 
this,  and  we  reached  New  York  with  very  pleasant 
memories  of  the  past. 

The  whole  cruise  to  the  St.  Lawrence  was  one  long 
delight,  and  I  am  looking  forward  to  another  trip, 
across  Newfoundland — that  unknown  territory  which 
has  charms  all  its  own. 

Dear  Reader,  now  that  I  have  finished  this  very 
pleasant  task,  I  feel  that  I  have  but  poorly  described 

V 


Enough^  and  Home.  237 

the  exquisite  pleasure  we  all  enjoyed  as  we  passed 
through  these  varied  experiences  on  sea  and  land. 
It  only  remains  for  me  to  hope  that  you  will  some 
day  take  the  same  trip ;  and  may  the  summer  sea 
have  fair  skies,  and  the  hospitable  people  all  along 
shore  treat  you  with  that  unstinted  kindness  which, 
was  meted  out  to  us.  I  bid  you  all  good-night,  with 
the  prayer  that  you  may  sing  throughout  the  voyage 
of  life  the  song  of  the  poet — 

"  How  sweet  to  rove, 
With  such  a  beaming  sky  above, 
O'er  the  dark  sea,  whose  murmurs  seem 
Like  fairy  music  in  a  dream  ! 
No  sound  is  heard  to  break  the  spell 
Except  the  water's  gentle  swell, 
"Whilst  midnight,  like  a  mimic  day, 
Shines  on  to  guide  our  moonlit  way." 


GEORGE  ELIOrS  NOVELS. 

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Few  women— no  living  woman,  indeed— have  so  much  strength  as  "George 
Eliot,"  and,  more  than  that,  she  never  allows  it  to  degenerate  into  coarseness. 
With  all  her  so-called  "masculine"  vigor,  she  has  a  feminine  tenderness,  which 
is  nowhere  shown  more  plainly  than  in  her  descriptions  of  children. — Loston 
Traiiscript. 

She  looks  out  upon  the  world  with  the  most  entire  enjoyment  of  all  the  good 
that  there  is  in  it  to  enjoy,  and  with  an  enlarged  compassion  for  all  the  ill  that 
there  is  in  it  to  pity.  But  she  never  either  whimpers  over  the  sorrowful  lot  of 
man,  or  snarls  and  chnckles  over  his  follies  and  littlenesses  and  impotence. — 
Saturday  lievieic,  London. 

George  "Eliot's"  novels  belong  to  the  enduring  literature  of  our  country- 
durable  not  for  the  fashionableuess  of  its  pattern,  but  for  the  texture  of  its  stuff. 
— Examiner,  Loudon. 


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